Pieces Old And New
by ObsG
Summary: The Reapers are gone but their legacy remained.
1. Chapter 1

**Author note - This was originally meant to be a very very short story. Just about Akuze and a bit more, a peek into the aftermath of the Reaper War. However, I found myself wandering farther and farther down the road and it kept on going. Hence, the beginnings are very brief. I have no written blueprint. Whatever I put down here, are just images that comes up in my head. So there will be parts that won't gel correctly or sound very stupid (I'm not that good a writer) or worst, wandering in useless circles. I will try my best to keep it straight. To those who drop by, thanks for taking the time to read. Cheers!**

**Additional notes for this story spin. **

**The Reapers were destroyed after Shepard triggered the Crucible. In the aftermath, everyone began to pick up the pieces and worked to forge a new era with the now acknowledged entry of the Geth and the Rachni.**

**Characters that do not exist : The Catalyst, The Leviathans, Nyreen. Retake Omega occurred differently, it took place after the war.**

* * *

**Akuze, 2177.**

"It's a damn ghost town," Erial spat at a tick bug crawling near her boot before stamping down hard on it. It was not really called a tick bug but it looked like a Earthy large tick to her. The kind that got on people's nerves, just as the planet she was standing on was stringing hers at the moment. The inaudible pop brought about a grim satisfaction to her twisting lips. Bugs, she hate bugs that looked as if it was about to have a good bite and draw of your blood and Akuze bade fair to spawn a nest of them right at her feet. The thought of them brought about a sudden itch beneath her left shoulder blade and she swore for it was impossible to get to it at the moment, suited up in her armor but she tried anyway, wriggling and swiveling about.

Her companion said nothing, seemingly not to hear as she stared out at the enclosing darkness. Her posture was relaxed; booted feet propped up against the railing of the roof of the fabricated habitat, a hand propping up her chin, her other hand draped over her thighs. Anybody else would assume her attention was wandering. Were Erial observing closely for the past minutes, she would have noticed that the eyes hardly blinked and thought as much. Was she dreaming? But no, eyes twitched in the direction of a barely discernible flicker of shadows in the distance.

"You'll have the old man up here in a minute if you keep at it," she said at last after the huffing, puffing and struggling beside her refused to cease.

"He hates bugs more than I do, I'd bet he's busy slapping on that special cream he likes to tote about so often," Erial gave herself a last ineffectual wriggle before sitting down with a heavy thump next to her companion. "Besides, he's safely away at admin," she sighed. "Why is it nothing seems to bug you?"

"Because all bugs are drawn to you automatically. You are a very effective bug shield," came the teasing reply.

"Damn it, is that why you dragged me out here?" Erial demanded in mock anger.

"Damn, busted."

"Busted my ass, Shepard."

"Anytime, anywhere?"

"I would be so unlucky," Erial returned drolly.

"Leon wouldn''t think so."

"You have to bring up what I miss for the past few days," Erial grumbled even as she smiled at the memory of her recent trip with her other half flashed to her mind. "How am I to sleep now?" she sighed.

"Dereliction of duty is not allowed."

"Not with the LT in my pocket," she said smugly.

"Really? Since when?"

"Hey, who footed the last bill at the bar?"

"Someone who was underfoot at the end of it," Shepard chuckled when Erial punched her shoulder in mock anger.

"Damn you Shepard, no one can ever drink you down. I don't think anyone can. I'd pay good money if I know a clear winner," Erial propped her chin on curled fists as she tried to remember how many bets she had won every time someone challenged Shepard to a drinking match.

"Not going to happen."

"Thus speak the ultimate pukka quaffer. Damn, I can use a shot of whisky right now," Erial licked her lips longingly.

"No drinking on duty either."

"You're no fun!"

"You itching now?"

"No," Erial sighed heavily. "I know, doc would say it's all in the head. It's not really there."

"You're not the only one," Shepard brushed away a strand of hair that wavered teasingly to her eyes in the breeze that sprang up.

"What do you think happened here?" the question that had squirmed silently in Erial's mind ever since they touched down at the colony that afternoon finally spang loose. It was the same question everyone was pondering the moment they discovered not one soul could be found.

Shepard finally ran her eyes over the other prefabs tiered in a rough circular pattern around the administrative buildings. The lights were glimmering brightly despite the fact they were found to have been active for several days. Through some of the windows, off duty marines were at leisure but not one had taken off his armor. With the disappearance of an entire pioneer colony,  
who would dare to relax?

No bodies, no sign of violence. Except for some several days old logs in by the colony administrator that mostly dealt with the daily routines of the colony. Everything was as it should. Fields had been cultivated, the rich growth awaiting harvesting portend a viable establishment for a bigger population eventually. Water was running, power was readily available. Every machine was in place and working properly. The only missing items were people and trucks.

"Medical supplies seem to have been tampered with," she thought aloud, startling Erial who was musing deeply.

"You think they went somewhere with them? Everyone?" incredulity laced Erial's slightly raised tone. "But wouldn't the logs...?"

"Overlooked or in a hurry to tend the incident that drew them away. Which would be dealt with eventually...except that no one came back to do it."

"But what kind of..," Erial stopped when Shepard's suit radio spat. Or rather more of a cough, hastily muffled, followed by a low voice that she recognised as Saben's, manning the OP at the administration building.

"LT? Report to admin."

"Copy that," Shepard said and got to her feet. "Want to bet we're going to beat feet?" she said, thumping Erial's shoulder gently with a fist as she picked up her helmet.

"No way."

"Not betting or not beating feet?"

"Both!"

They chuckled, lightly striking each other's fists before Shepard put on her helmet and turned away to climb down the ladder at the side of the prefab.

"Stay frosty, kiddo."


	2. Chapter 2

For a lush world, noisy nocturnal fauna seemed to be missing on Akuze. The silence felt unnatural to her. It felt as if a boding menace was watching and waiting to pounce on unsuspecting prey. Figments of imagination, she knew, due to the underlying unease and tension. Still, it was hard to brush off the impression. The sole voice of nature had been abruptly cut off the moment the helmet enclosed her head so now all she had to listen to was her soft breath and the thump of her boots as she made her way to the administration buildings. There was no urgent tag to the message so she made brief stops along the perimeter of her route to check on the posted sentries for the night. Not that she thought they would sleep on the job but to provide assurance with her presence. Until an answer could be found for the missing pioneer colonists, everyone was edgy and she wanted no silly incidents. Especially more so with the senior lieutenant detailed away on another mission and her doing double duty.

It was close to half an hour later that she entered the main administrative building, satisfied with the brief conversations she had with the sentries who were alert and ready to respond immediately to any emergency. Here, there were more signs of human activity as she walked past various departments. A few marines under the direction of the gunnery sergeant, were taking a physical stock check of the meagre armament of the colony at the supply office. That the weapons were left behind was a sign that the colonists had not been expecting any trouble. Somewhat reassuring. It did not mean however, they did not run into one along the way.

She nodded a acknowledgement when they hailed her but did not stop. A look in at the medical bay was just as quick. Doc did not see her since he had his back to the door but from the datapads, the numerous blooming displays around the console and the way he craned his head, it was obvious he was immersed in his own research. She left him to it and continued on to the main office where Saben sat in line of sight of the door, manning one of the consoles, flashed her a wide eyed look. Curious.

Other than Saben, the rest were absorbed in their tasks and did not look up as she made her way to the large rectangular table set at the back of the room. From the looks of it, it was used as a conference table. It was bare of consoles and littered with days old beverage stained cups and datapads at the moment. Someone with an artistic hand had inlaid a carved wooden clock at one end of it. Perusing a datapad was a craggy faced man with greying wings at his forehead. From the frown creasing his heavy brows and his posture, no doubt there was an update.

"Reporting in, sir," she came to attention.

"Shepard," he did not look up, "took the long tour?"

"To keep everyone on their toes, sir."

"Toeing the line is all good but keeping them there," he looked at her with a gleam in his eyes, "can be highly taxing."

"For a home run, I don't think it's too much to ask, sir," she said evenly.

"Well, I can't argue with that," he chuckled as he handed her the datapad he was holding. "Ship's called in a short range beacon signal five miles south-east of us. Since there is only one settlement on this planet, it has to be the colonists."

"Intermittently?" her eyebrows shot up as she read the report. "This should have been picked up when we entered orbit. Not ten hours after."

"Survivors...I hope," he said bleakly when her eyes flicked up. "A busted beacon they managed to get working perhaps."

"That would imply a catastrophic incident," she said without surprise as she laid the datapad gently back on the table, she did not bother voicing the few possibilties that would fit the current situation since it had all been mooted in an earlier discussion. "How do you want this played, sir?"

"If the entire colony went out there," he rubbed his stubble chin thoughtfully, "it will be extremely ugly. We're beating feet," he glanced at the quaint ornate timepiece set into the table, "in about an hour."

"First party recon?" she said, trying not to imagine what they might see later.

"Thirty minutes," he nodded in agreement, "take doc with you."

"Are there any local maps of the south-east?"

"Here," he hit a key near him and a holographic image sprang up in the centre of the table. "Flat terrain at beacon location. No water sources, typical hilly ranges. They're still collating local fauna but there's nothing nasty to fear at the moment."

"Doesn't mean it's not there, sir," she said dryly. "Local or .. foreign," she emphasized the latter word. "Flat terrain..," she frowned. Every soldier's nightmare when trouble exploded.

"So watch your asses out there," he snorted. "I don't have to tell you twice," he cocked his head at the display. "That is all."

"Sir," she came to attention and turned away. There were tasks to be done and she had less than thirty minutes to prepare.

"Shepard," he waited till she looked back. "Don't take any chances."

"That's twice, skipper," she said with a grin.

"Good marines are hard to come by," he flicked his eyes away quickly.

The brief private discussion they had after ascertainment of the missing colonists came to mind and she nodded slowly before going on her way, stopping briefly by Saben who transferred updated local maps into her omni-tool from his console. There was a strange look on his face and tiny beads of sweat were dotting his forehead. From staring at her when she first stepped in, he was ducking his head now even as his fingers moved over the displays. She wondered if he was ill but did not stop to query. There was more to worry about than a new recruit to the unit. Mentally, she began to pick the marines she would bring with her as she made her way back to the medical bay where doc had not moved from his position. Come to think of it, he had been there ever since they cleared the buildings.

Doc was not surprised when informed of the impending mission. There was nothing alarming in the medical records he looked into, it was all above board and pedestrian. The only entries that fascinate him were those on the impact of local flora and fauna on human physiology. Knowing doc's penchant to launch into discourse over new discoveries, Shepard hurriedly redirect him to make preparations to leave in less than half an hour. She would treat him to a drink after they got back to the ship to make up for it but she doubted he was offended at being averted. The only times he was offended was when someone tried to tell him how to do his job.

After leaving medical bay, she had the gunnery sergeant run an arms inspection of the unit even as she began calling in the marines she had in mind. While she waited, she went over her own weapons; assault rifle, pistol, grenades, med patches. Fingers moved smoothly over each weapon component, precise and confident. Just as she tucked the pistol away, the marines she had selected stepped into the supply office. Erial looked subtly excited but came to attention as the others. It was obvious she was full of questions, like the others but knew when to keep her peace. The mission briefing was clear and concised but then, they expected no less from her. Once dismissed, they began their own preparations before making their way to one of the 'cockroach' at the landing pad and were away. While the others settled down in the cargo compartment, Shepard went to the cockpit.

After double checking their heading, she settled back in the co-pilot seat. It would take about thirty minutes to the site and she could use a little rest to clear her mind and ready herself. Dealing with questions from the rest would lead to wild speculations, impacting on performance. She would rather not have that. Through the windows, nothing could be seen but darkness. If she looked harder, perhaps the glimmer of stars. If stars were wishes, perhaps they would grant her wish that all of them would come through unscathed. That she did not have a stone peach in her stomach. The times when she felt like this had been run-ins with pirates, mercenaries and worse of all, Batarians. Fervently, she hoped the latter were not the cause of the current situation. Slavers were the most loathsome fiends she ever want to deal with. No, she took a deep breath and resolutely cleared her mind as she closed her eyes.

"LT, 5 minutes to target."

Had she fallen asleep? Her eyes snapped open at the soft murmur from the pilot. It felt like she had. Yes, she had dozed off. A look out the cockpit window revealed the darkness had faded to a dark grey haze. A few more hours before dawn. Unstrapping herself from the seat, she made her way to the cargo compartment. The squad looked up at her entrance, the murmur of their conversation died away.

"LZ in 5 minutes," she nodded to them and they began to latch on their helmets stacked neatly on empty seats and all the little motions of tightening their armor, checking their weapons.

The overhead screens lit up and they had their first view of their destination as the pilot turned on the exterior lights.

"Target sighted," came the pilot's voice. "Orders?"

Shepard's eyes widened. Even in the dark greyish haze, it was possible to see scattered vehicles on the ground.

"Hold at forty and circle perimeter of debris field," she said, moving closer to the screens as she held on to the overhead handbar while the rest braced themselves. The shuttle banked and flew in a circuit. Even in the dim light, she could make out overturned trucks. Some were broken into pieces, others looked pulverise. Parts and pieces covered a large area of the flat terrain, some seemed buried midway in the ground. No bodies. But no, her breath caught when she sighted a couple of corpses among the wreckage.

"Source of beacon," she said, frowning uneasily. The pattern of the debris did not seem coherent to her.

"Seems to be coming from one of the trucks along the perimeter," came the reply after a while. "Nothing else sighted," he added.

"Set us down by the beacon," she said, turning to face the hatch as the shuttle straightened and began to descent. "Eyes peeled," she motioned to the squad and opened the hatch once the shuttle had settled.


	3. Chapter 3

The stench hit them; sharply acrid, sour, smoky metalic that roused bouts of coughing behind her. The urge to do likewise was strong but she forced it down, clearing her throat instead. After a quick scan of the opened ground before her, she stepped out of the shuttle, assault rifle held ready. Her boots sank half a foot into the soil. For a moment, she wondered if the area was quicksand and then dismissed that brief panicky thought. The shuttle would have sunk down if it were so and there were no water sources nearby.

"Watch your step, terrain is soft," she said over her shoulder as the squad followed. She flicked her fingers, splitting up the squad into threes to cover a wider area, pulling doc and Erial to follow her towards the truck highlighted on her helmet visor.

Cautiously, they fanned out. Except for the odour, there was hardly any movement or any sound. Her helmet pickups only had the soft muffled steps of the others. The truck with the beacon was a short distance to the left of the shuttle so they made their way to it, skirting pieces of metallic debris embedded in the ground which she automatically catalogued; wires, components and ... she paused a moment as she read the data. Uncertainly, she flicked on the light in her omni-tool and cast it on the disturbing congealed items on the ground.

"Doc?" she waved him forward. He crouched down, his omni-tool flared as he first visually examined the muddy brown pieces on the ground and took readings.

"Human. Can't tell which parts," he said softly.

"Was he eaten or something, doc?" came Erial's nervous voice.

"You ought to stop watching horror vids or you'll have big snaggle tooth monsters rounding us up every time we go out," Doc said.

"I'm more afraid of little ones," Erial returned, looking all around her uneasily.

"Several days old as far as I can make out," Doc stood up, checking the results of the scans again. "Just about the time when everyone came out here."

"All right, let's move on," Shepard took point again, heading towards the truck. There was no more comment from Erial. Sooner or later though, she was going to mouth off agan. That was just typical of her when missions seemed to go south. It was a characteristic trait of hers Shepard could not exactly shake her out off. In a firefight however, she was as cool as the next customer at the bar.

The truck in question lay on its side, was more or less intact but badly battered. As if it had gone several rounds ramming against something hard that wrenched off the flatbed it would have been hauling and half flattened the roof that caved in at the second cabin. Carefully, Shepard tested the pile of large metal debris beneath it and satisfied it would hold her weight, tacked her rifle to the back of her armor and climbed to the top that brought her to waist level with the main cabin. She pulled the latch of the door to the cabin but nothing happened. Another stronger tug produced the same result. Heaving herself up, she climbed onto the door, knelt down to peer through the side window but saw nothing. It was too dark within. Flicking on her omni-tool, she flashed a light and saw a few bodies tumbled up at the other end of the cabin. Dead or alive, she had no idea. Switching off the light, she got to her feet and bracing herself, pulled the latch with all her strength. The door screamed and the other two waiting below instantly clapped hands to their heads but ended up slapping fruitlessly against their helmets. Although the auto sensors quickly dialed down the sound input, they heard enough that stung their ears for a moment.

"Ouch!" came the complaint. From Erial, as usual.

"Be thankful you can still hurt," Shepard said with grim humor. "Doc? Might have somebody alive within," she held on to the door as there was no way to prop it open at the moment.

"Hold the door," he said as he climbed up.

"Yes, sir. Would you like a drink while you're at it?" quipped Shepard. "Tequila shot?"

"If that can be arranged," Doc grinned wolfishly at her before he looked in, omin-tool flashing. "Shit, one's alive. Erial," he rapped out before he pulled himself onto the edge of the cabin and lowered himself down. The young marine hastily took his place.

Erial craned her head to look in from her perch at the top of the debris. The cabin rocked as Doc pushed away the corpses that had apparently trapped the survivor's legs. A man, as far as she could make out. The cabin glowed eerily from the light of Doc's omni-tool as he made a more thorough examination. In the meantime, Shepard contacted the other parties to make their way to her position and heard Doc calling out.

"Legs broken, some internal injuries. Try not to bang him too much about."

Shifting her stance, Shepard looked around the door to see Erial sliding her arms under the shoulders of an unconscious man. Her position was too percarious to try to heave him out completely so Doc told her to stay there while he pulled himself out, wriggled his way past Erial to drop to the ground and had her pulled out the survivor.

"Watch out!" Shepard warned as the debris wobbled. Fortunately, Doc had gotten hold of the survivor and Erial hurriedly leaped off before she tumbled with the sliding debris onto the two. Doc stumbled and fell with the colonist right on top of him. "Alright, doc?" Shepard let go of the door which fell shut eagerly with a bang.

"Fine." Doc gently rolled the colonist off him and got up. "It's a good thing he's unconscious, his legs are a damn mess," he said grimly. "Knocks to the head, concussion," he muttered, tapping his omni-tool as Shepard crouched down beside him. "Some internal bleeding and he's dehydrated. I'm surprised he's held out this long but that enclosed cabin may have helped in reducing water loss."

"He's got alot of bruising," Shepard noted the black ugly markings on the man's face. "As if he's gone forty rounds with a gorilla."

"I seriously doubt anyone can get past one round with a gorilla," Doc snorted. "He's banged up seriously everywhere."

"So," Shepard turned to look at the truck. "I'm guessing something had a go at the truck and everyone's shaking like peas in a pod."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying, LT?" Erial gulped, blinking rapidly as she looked around.

"No, what do you think I'm saying?" Shepard returned patiently.

"Uh ...," Erial shifted uncertainly. "A large gorilla beat them up? Hey there is such a thing you know," she said plaintively when Doc let out a bark of laughter.

"Erial, don't think I don't know what you've been watching," he said, taking out tiny modules from his waist pouches and rapidly inject the survior, now his patient. "You know damn well they're not real and that vid about a giant gorilla landing in Toronto is plain hogwash and an underhanded swipe at groundpounders."

"Underhanded or not, we won at the end."

"We, huh? Were you there?"

"Doc!"

The sound of approaching feet heralding the arrival of the rest of the squad ceased the conversation. Under doc's direction, the survivor was moved to the shuttle where he could set up a drip and make sure he rest more comfortably. Since his condition was stable, doc judged that he could be moved back to the settlement after he had ascertained there were no more survivors. While the others removed the corpses from the intact truck for Doc to examine, Shepard received the report from the corporal detailed to one of the recon teams. As she surmised, the number of trucks visually accounted for made up two-thirds of the total the colony had. What happened to the rest would have to be determined later. A few corpses had been found, strewn haphazardly and in disturbing conditions.

"It's like they were rolled over or flattened by ... something," the corporal elaborated further when she asked for clarification, face slightly paled as he recalled what he had seen. They had even found a decapitated head half buried in the soil. None of them had tried to touch it, they'd preferred doc to examine it himself so he was unable to say how the head was removed.

"What's the count?" she hated to ask but had to.

"Ten, within fifty metre range."

That was only one tenth of the total number of the pioneer colonists. Were there others also trapped in the cabins of their trucks? She dismissed the corporal who jogged over to lend a hand in removing the corpses. The odds of finding more survivors was very slim but she was not, they were not going to start giving up before they had even started. Time was of essence and she checked the chronometer on her omni-tool. The unit was due soon and she had better report in to the skipper so he could begin forming teams to scour every inch of ground, every wreckage the moment they arrived.


	4. Chapter 4

An hour later, the place was transformed into a bustling place. Shuttles were parked in a small circle at the landing zone, exterior lights blazing to add more illumination. Small groups of soldiers were clustered around intact truck cabins, of which were woefully few, searching hopefully for survivors and removing corpses while others moved across the terrain, carefully pegging small tracking nodules beside any human remains they were able to find. Recovery teams better equipped to remove them will pick up their locations easily.

Shepard sat alone in the shuttle she had arrived in with the recon team, munching on an energy bar and taking small sips of water from a cup. Having missed supper, her stomach was rumbling and yet, she had little motivation to eat but she did so because Doc would pick it up the minute she entered his orbit. She fancied his omni-tool was programmed to shriek a warning if any member of the unit did not meet his criteria of fitness. Taking another bite, she stared sightlessly out the opened hatch, trying to fathom the cause of the destruction and deaths of the colonists. In the midst of her musing, the captain stepped in. He waved her back when she was about to stand and sat down in the row of seats opposite her.

"Not what we envisioned," he sighed, rubbing his face once he had removed his helmet.

"No, sir," she agreed, after hastily swallowing her mouthful. "It doesn't fit with what we had seen of mercenary or even Batarian attacks."

"I don't think we can blame the weather either," he waved at the scene outside with a hand. "Hell, if it was a cyclone or dust storm, the debris would have been wide spread."

"Or not at all here. The wind would have scattered everything far and wide, not confined within such a small expanse."

"Throw one," he pointed to a wrapped bar beside her which he fielded when she tossed it over. "Recon teams reported in," he muttered, unwrapping the bar and taking a bite. "Zip out there. No one's left. Whatever happened, it all started and ended here."

"But what did happen here?" she got up and moved to the back of the compartment, drawing a cup of water from the ration dispenser that held supplies for eight for a week and handed it to him before returning to her seat.

"Run it by me," he settled back more comfortably in his seat and waited as she took a moment to collect her thoughts, unconsciously leaning forward to rest her elbows on her thighs, her fingers interlaced before her face. A tiny smile played around his lips and a light to his eyes which she did not notice.

"They put in a medical log, a day prior to lost of contact with the colony, that detailed a expedition group to gather more samples south-east of the settlement. Presuming they did come out here, they probably ran into some kind of trouble and radioed for help. Or perhaps someone went back. Whatever it was, the rest of the colonists saw fit to gather everyone, medical supplies and came out here. Where they were attacked. One possibility is that some local fauna was responsible, some creature, had the ability to tear to pieces, both metal and organics. The other possibility to account for the type of destruction and debris found here, if we presumed it to be an outside force at work, a crashed ship. But that is impossible since no ship was found nor was there any signs of a air to ground collision," she gently bounced her fingers against her chin.

"What about a gorilla?" he laughed when she looked at him in surprise. "I overheard Doc and Erial's conversation sometime ago."

"They're still at it," she shook her head. No doubt it was Doc who brought up the topic, she had noticed he liked to push Erial's buttons when she got into one of her contentions of levity, more than the others.

"Soldiers have many ways of relieving stress," he took a sip from his cup. "Erial's one those who just like to harmlessly ramble, in a nonsensical comical way."

That was astonishing. It was the first time in her three years with the unit he was that frank about any member in it. His usual repertoire, if he offered any, was often than not, conservative and delivered in brief military terms.

"You don't agree?" he asked when she blinked at him speechlessly for several seconds.

"Ah, yes, sir, you're right," she said. "But, gorillas aside," she picked up where she left off, not willing to discuss Erial, "there has to be a creature existing here, as yet undiscovered, large enough to wreak massive amount of damage."

"If we were still back on Earth and not scrambling around on an alien planet, I'd say you're talking through your hat," he ignored her stunned look. "But we're not, so once whatever bodies can be found and recovered, we're heading back to the settlement. Within the hour," he swallowed the last bite of his energy bar, downed his drink, throwing wrapper and cup into the disposer under the seats before picking up his helmet. "I hear you like to drink," he paused at the hatch. "Drank everyone and anyone down. That's a challenge I'd like to take up sometime," he grinned at her before vanishing from sight.

What was that all about? Shepard finally shut her mouth. Did the water do something to him? She had never heard him talk in such a casual tone. The tin old man, was what the older members of the crew had called him. Unbendable, unshakable. The veritable representation of the true soldier to the bone. She had come to agree mostly with that assessment but felt they were a little hard on him; he was not as unyielding as they make him out to be.

She shook herself. It was not the time to figure out what the captain was about. He wanted to get everyone out in an hour and she concurred so she had better hopped to it and made sure they do. Clearing away her own debris, she latched on her helmet and stepped out into bright artificial light. Her helmet visor adjusted automatically, filtering the gamma as she made her way to the large tent set up beside the first truck. Covered bodies were neatly laid out in a row with Doc checking tags attached to each one. After his affirmation, two soldiers picked up the corpse and carried it to one of the shuttles.

"LT?" one of the technicians called from the truck he was standing on. The same one she had helped to rescue the survivor from.

"Update on the beacon?" she said as she jogged towards him.

"Jury rigged," he crouched down and held out the beacon he had dismantled from the cabin. "Hardly any juice left to power even a micro light," he continued as she examined it. "I'm thinking he transferred some power from the engine capacitor to give it just enough to send out a call," he paused when she frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"No," she shook her head. "He was damn lucky or something was looking out for him. Pack it up and whatever else there is to link to its operative status. We're leaving under an hour."

"Yes, sir," the tech nodded before dropping back down into the cabin.

Using her comlink, she updated everyone's status, receiving reports as she walked slowly back to the tent. There were still a few groups out at the perimeter and she wanted them back as soon as possible. The number of bodies at the tent had deceased as more soldiers arrived to help as most of them had done all they could to explore and search. There was an air of tension and eagerness to leave. She could empathise; no one liked corpses and mysterious disappearance of a hundred people. It simply brought about the fear that they could be next, vulnerable as they were on that flat terrain.

"Anything new, Doc?" she said. moving into the tent where Erial was helping to pack up his kit spread on the nearby table.

"No. It's just the same for every one of them; broken bones, cracked heads, internal injuries. From what I've seen of the body parts," he waved his hand at several small packages near him, Erial edged away slowly. Her hands moved even faster. "They were caused by metal. Person gets killed and sliced by metal edges. Or died and then sliced by metal debris," he added as an afterthought.

"I'm done, Doc," Erial announced loudly. "Shall I bring this to the shuttle?" she held aloft a small bag.

"By all means," he said dryly, waiting until she had trotted off before addng, "I'm not sure she's meant for this job."

"She has always wanted to follow the family tradition," Shepard said, "she's doing well." Or as well as she could be, she thought silently.

"Oh I don't mean she's not a good soldier," Doc said grinning, packing up the small packages into a crate. "She's just not cut out to be a nurse! Ready to puke at the first sign of a cutting knife."

"Doc, knowing you, it's not the knife but your tongue that scares her," Shepard returned dryly.

"That's my gauntlet, knowing how well lined their stomach is," he closed the crate firmly. "And knowing yours ..," he paused, looking at her speculatively. "Skipper's been fishing."

"Fishing?"

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Tell you what?" she said in bewilderment.

"You know what?" he pushed his face nearer so he could examine hers. She glared humorously back at him.

"There's a mole on my face?"

"Wish it were so," he tapped her visor. "You're not being reassigned, are you?"

"Where did you hear that?" she demanded, heart uplifting, recalling that conversation she had with the captain at the base and the hints he had dropped at the end of it. There was nothing to it, she had thought, since there was nothing confirmed.

"Since he started prodding Erial just now about you when we were having that gorilla discussion."

"What did he say?" curosity tinged Shepard's mood.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say he's taking an interest in you," Doc chuckled at Shepard's perplexed expression.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"No pursue of self interest in the same chain of command, you heard that one, didn't you?"

"Uh Doc, he's ah ... older than me," Shepard wanted to laugh at what Doc was implying. The captain interested in her in that way? It was not possible. Doc was misreading the skipper, she was sure.

"He's not really that old, not fatherly old," Doc turned away, "don't let that hair, face and demeanor fool you."

"Doc, I know how old he is. I meant..," Shepard stopped short. "You feel something?" she said, sure she felt a tremor in the ground.

"What?" Doc was puzzled, looking down. "I don't feel anything."

"That...," she stopped short as the comlink to her helmet sparked.

"LT, Toombs. I'm at one of the vehicles out at the perimeter. It has some sort of liquid splashed over it," came the voice of the marine. "It seems acidic as the plating is corroded."

"How bad is it?" Acidic? She did not like the sound of that.

"Took out the entire cabin. Everything's fried, nothing left but stubs," his voice sounded sick. What had he seen?

"Location?" If there was time, she would take a shuttle out there to take a look. Doc would want to go too to take a sample, she was sure.

"Three point five klicks south."

That was not too far, in a shuttle but they were out of time. The captain would not be too happy if they were to delay. It would have to be put off till later. That truck and acid was going nowhere.

"Get back here, Toombs," she said. "Dust off in twenty."

"Yes sir."

She turned to Doc who seemed to be staring at the table. What was wrong with the table? She saw it at once; there was a small vial Erial had overlooked among the clutter of used bloody kits in his examination of the corpses. It was an oddly pretty looking vial; luminiscent green. It was not the colour that held their fascination however, it was the gentle tiny trotting across the surface of the table that seemed to mesmerise them. And that trotting was getting not so tiny, it was changing. The vial was doing little hops, as if something was bumping it and they could feel the ground doing the same motions. They stared at each other before it struck them. Shepard clapped a hand to helmet, enabling priority unit wide comlink.

"**Evac One**!"


	5. Chapter 5

Marines frozen to the spot galvanized into action the moment they heard Shepard's broadcast. Each knew what they had to do, what they should do and how to do it. They trained for it, for every possible scenario but nothing prepared them for the earthquake tremor that tossed everyone off their feet and destroyed several of the portable lights set around the area. Nor were they prepared for the fissure that appeared and rapidly exploded, sending soil and rocks into the air along with the biting acrid stench of acid and the huge monstrous head of an alien creature that reared over the nearest marines to it. Tentacles wavered madly and snaked out. Screams over the comlink. Shepard fought to get to her feet, drawing her assault rifle as she did so, trying to get her bearings. Her stomach heaved when she saw what the monster was doing. Her first thought was to get the unit together and onto the shuttles, there was no way to battle a creature that large in their current situation; the terrain was against them and they had no heavy weapons. However, they were scattered and in disarray. Gathering the remaining marines and getting out of there would be difficult but not impossible. She hoped.

"Open fire!" she shouted. "Open fire!" Where was the captain? He should have been yelling something by now. Even as she wondered and fired her assault rifle, she could hear the fear and horror over the comlink but her order was heard and marines farther away began to shoot. The creature seemed to shake itself in annoyance as shots penetrated its hide. It opened its mouth but no sound was heard. Something invisible came rushing and Shepard grunted as a shockwave threw her back several feet. She slammed against the truck, her head hitting so hard that even with helmet, she saw stars and fell to her knees. The ground trembled as the creature, roused to anger by the irritating bites it could feel, lashed out with its tentacles and body. A shuttle went flying, spinning wildly through the air before crashing into the ground.

Darkness threatened to overwhelm her and she struggled to stay conscious. She had to stay on her feet. A hand latched onto her arm. Doc. Eyes wide, fear held barely in check, he shouted at her but she could not hear what he was saying. Seeing her incomprehension, he grabbed the side of her helmet and began to make adjustments before shoving his mouth next to her visor to shout once more. Still, she could not make out what he said except a garbled : "ay ere...uuuu ooof." He did not wait to see if she understood but shoved her head down. The rush of blood nearly send her to the darkness, it also made her nauseous. Crouching down beside her, he held his assault rifle at the ready but did not shoot at the creature. Sounds began to filter back in but muffled. Growls and screams, sporatic gunfire. The ground continued to shake. Her vision began to clear and she lifted her head.

"What happened?" she coughed to clear her throat and realised he did not hear her when he remained silent. She repeated in a stronger, louder voice.

"Infrasound, magnified, sent a shockwave in our direction. Whoever's caught in its path..," he did not bother to elaborate.

"Skipper?" she got to her feet.

"No word. Game plan?" he stood, his jaws working grimly.

"We get out of here and take as many as possible," she checked her rifle.

"If we're going to do it, have to be fast, I see only one shuttle left," he nodded past the collapsed tent to where a single shutlle was still standing intact on the far side of the creature's entry. The exterior lights a beacon of hope.

"Stay on my six then," she said.

"Haven't I always?"

Without a word, she loped off, keeping as far as a distance between them and the creature which was turned away in response to gunfire. Not everyone was gone then, her heart lifted and tapped her helmet, calling to any who could respond to report in. Hope raised even further when survivors answered. She ordered a steady withdrawal to possible available covers and suit beacons engaged for pickup. In the midst of the exchanges, the ground shook and she flashed a quick look only to see the creature drawing back down through the hole it made. Was it retreating? She rather doubted it but it gave them more space to manuever. Flashing a signal to Doc, she picked up her pace, weaving through smoking debris and bodies towards the intact shuttle. Mangled bodies which she recognised as those belonging to the colonists; thrown out of their body bags, and marines. Later, later. She would grieve later, now was not the time. First the shuttle, get it up and picked up whoever was left.

Through her boots, she could feel the ground beneath wobbling. The creature was moving. To where, she had no idea but it had not left the vicinity yet. Where, where was it heading? The ground bounced, her eyes widened and her heart sank. She tried to brace herself but was still thrown off her feet. Doc shouted. The ground broke and the creature reared above them. Damn it all, if she had to go down, she would but not without a fight! Teeth bared, she poured a hail straight into the creature's head, trying to aim for the eyes. Its waving tentacles took most of the shots. More fire came at the creature from the other marines, seeing the duo's predicament. It jerked, one of her shots must have hit a tender part. Enraged, its mouth opened and Shepard knew she would never make it. Shockwave at ground zero would kill her immediately.

There came a roar of engines and a fresh hail of bullets. The creature halted and turned its attention to this new annoyance. Astonished, she looked up to see a circling shuttle, three marines at the opened hatch, shooting away. What the hell were they doing? They should be picking up the other survivors, she thought even as she got up to stagger over to Doc and pulled him up. How long could they hold out? They ran to the shuttle. Near, so near. Behind them, the duel continued.

The creature lashed out but the pilot saw it coming and turned the shuttle away, trying to give the marines onboard a clear line of fire even as he did so. It tried again and the pilot was fast enough to dodge, buying precious time for the duo below. But that was the end of it. The creature lashed out once more and spat out a greenish mass when it failed to snag the shuttle. Impossible to evade at that distance. The shuttle spun, the three marines were thrown out as the hatch was wrenched free, screaming as the acid ate into their armor and flesh. Their agony was mercifully cut short when they slammed into the ground. Shepard heard the whine of engines and turned to look even as she opened the hatch of the shuttle on the ground.

Everything seemed to slow down in a kaleidoscope of confusing images and sounds. The roar, the explosion behind her, pieces of metal and ashes floating through the air and then the most terrifying screeching of metal, shattered glass and the searing pain that cut across her face and body. Pain.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thessia, 2190 CE**

Pain. Short breaths, suffocating. Her eyes snapped open. Darkness. Bewildered and confused, she stared into nothing. What? Where? Had she been rescued? Was she in hospital? The warmth and weight by her side and around her disconcerted her. More so the fact that there was someone beside her. She reached out to the weight around her waist and encountered cool flesh. Who was with her? Her questing fingers encountered silky smooth cloth and whatever she was lying on was firm. Bedsheets? Something sleepy roused at the back of her mind. _"Hmmm?"_ Movement beside her and she blinked in the sudden glow of amber light. When her vision cleared, she stared incomprehendingly at the Asari for a few seconds. Memory returned in a flash.

"Nightmare?" Liara queried softly as she continued to look into intense blue eyes.

"I'm sorry, did I disturb you?" Shepard said apologetically as she tried to wet a dry throat.

"Hmm, one moment," perceptive as always, Liara knew what Shepard needed and slid from the bed to get it, moving easily across the room to the small table beside the wardrobe. Shepard sat up, drawing up her legs and propped her chin in her hand. Liara was deliberately putting in that sultry wiggle, she was sure, as a means of distraction. And she was willing to be diverted, anything from the phantom pain that was slowly ebbing away. Liara's naked form was something she was fortunate enough to view as she pleased, with the skin seeming to scintillate into various shades as she moved in and out of shadows.

"If you have finished your appreciation, you could drink this," Liara said with a smile. Startled, Shepard realised she had drifted off dreamily staring at Liara even as she returned to the bed with a glass of water.

"You are a masterpiece of distraction," Shepard grinned, taking the proffered glass, mentally sending Liara a feeling of warmth, knowing she would feel it and paused before she took a sip.

"It's just water," Liara said, settling back down in the bed and muted her worry as she watched Shepard drained it slowly. This simple act pleased her enormously for it affirmed that her bondmate was alive and hers to behold. Had been for the past two years but sometimes she would wake up in fear that it was all a dream. "So what was it?" she said after Shepard put aside the empty glass on the bedside table.

"Just an old memory," Shepard said finally after a moment of hesitation, not feeling up to talking about it. The silent pleading appeal in Liara's eyes changed her mind though. "Akuze," she clarified, seeing the light of comprehension in her bondmate's eyes.

"I remember," Liara nodded, "I read about that when I looked up your personal records onboard the Normandy," she reached out to take Shepard's hand. "You never told me how you managed to survive."

"I'm shocked. How could the Shadow Broker not know such details?" said Shepard teasingly.

"Details, yes. There were many. The most boring missives filed by one tedious officer who seemed bent on the tiniest minute details," Liara frowned disapprovingly and shook her head, "did no one complained about the complexity of those dreadful dry reports?"

"I think the Alliance brass like it, stiff necks, all of them," Shepard chuckled.

"Be that as it may," a dimple on a cheek before it vanished. "A personal account," Liara turned the hand she was holding over, smoothing over the palm with her thumb, "is different from a report." She looked up into blue eyes a shade deeper than hers. "Shepard." A soft plea.

"Well," Shepard sighed, looking down at their hands before turning to Liara. "Share it with me, love," she murmured, kissing Liara lightly and felt her bondmate's hands moved to hold her face.

_We embrace each other. In perils. In life. In joy and sadness._

_We are one. We share. Now and forever._

Pain. Someone was struggling to breathe, the gasps were loud. Choking. Dry hacking coughs and she wished whoever it was, would shut up for her head was throbbing to a invisible drumbeat. Where was she? It was so dark. Her body felt numb. Was she injured? Where was everyone? Was her body even working? Experimentally, she twitched her fingers and felt them respond. Gradually, she became aware her throat was dreadfully dry. The next was the pain on her face, her back and her ribs. A cough racked her. When it ceased, she realised there was no other sound saved for her breaths. Memory flooded in. Did the shuttle crash on Doc and herself? Were they buried beneath? Where was Doc? She raised a hand to tap the comlink in her helmet but nothing happened. Her helmet must be damaged. Otherwise, the visor would have lit up.

If she were to get out of whatever place she was in, she would have to do it herself . There was nothing before her as she reached out. How was she to see where she was going in the dark? But of course, she cursed herself for her slowness and hoped the omni-tool was still working. To her relief, it flared brightly, the orange glow gently enabling her vision to adjust quickly. In the light, she examined her surroundings. It did not look like the interior of the shuttle, the shape of the roof above her was too odd for that but it was reassuring metal. Proof that she did not end up as food in some creature's guts. Was that a glimmer of light at the lower edges? Pain flashed through her side as she pushed herself up. Gasping, she got to her hands and knees and crawled over to take a better look but the opening was too small. She examined the edges with her omni-tool. If anything, light beyond indicate an exit so if she wanted to get out, she would have to get rid of the barrier in the way which may end badly since she had no idea if moving it would destabilise whatever foundation propping it up. But she needed to get out.

Tentatively, she pushed it, gasping as her ribs grated. The metal gave slightly which improved her mood. Laying herself back down and bracing with her arms, she kicked. The impact of boot against metal sent waves of pain through her torso. Gritting her teeth, she continued to kick at the metal, giving rein to her emotions ; out, she needed to find out what had happened. More light flooded in as the metal began to bend outwards. Finally, she wormed her way through the hole she made, feeling the ragged edge of the metal scrapping along her back. For a moment, she rested, allowing the pain to subside to a bearable throb before she took in her surroundings.

It was the compartment of the shuttle she was in although the hatch and part of the side had crumpled in, creating a pocket of bent metal that had trapped her. The last thing she remembered was a confusing jumble of images ; a shuttle spinning through the air, bodies flying, awful sounds. She frowned, someone had pushed her. Doc? Grief welled up but she pushed it away. Not now. Surely he was dead. What about the rest? Erial? The skipper? She hobbled to her feet and made for the cockpit. At least the doorway was still functional. Grimacing, she lowered herself down in the pilot's chair and brought up the console which flared into life.

There was still power. She ran a systems check; it could fly but she would have to do a visual inspection of the shuttle. Hopefully, the other hatch was undamaged. A cough racked her and more pain blossomed in her side. When it was over, there was a spatter of blood across the console displays. She was bleeding within. Grimly, she got up and made her way to the other exit hatch which opened readily. Bright sunlight flooded in. Hell, how long was she unconscious? Odd she did not notice it through the cockpit windows. Breathing heavily, she made a slow walk all around the shuttle, the engines looked intact. When she got to the other side of the shuttle where it was damaged, she saw Doc, his lower body crushed by the torn hatch of the other shuttle.

"Doc, doc," she whispered, tears finally slipping from her eyes as she knelt beside him. His eyes were faded and grey, sightless in the sunlight. Controlling herself, Shepard undid the collar of his undersuit and removed one of his dogtags before getting up. Tucking it carefully away in one of the pouch of her belt, she finished her examination. It was fortunate the hatch that had crashed into the shuttle had slipped off instead of entrenched in it, so she could take off. But before she did that, she ought to look for survivors.

So silent. She looked around. In the daylight, the terrain was an ugly muddy sight to behold. Torn and churn up. Another cough made her reel and her vision blurred. Survivors. She hung on to that thought and returned to the cockpit. Survivors. Bringing up the shipboard com, she took a deep breath.

"This is lieutenant Shepard, if anyone is still alive, please respond," she gulped down the bile rising in her throat. "Is anyone out there, respond," she coughed and hastily turned aside, vomiting violently. Hell, bile and blood. Focus, focus. _Shepard, you ass, you're in no condition to mount a rescue. Get the hell out of here._

"Erial? Captain? Anyone?" Silence.

Over and over, she repeated for several minutes. She was feeling worse by the minute too. A dreadful cold seemed to be taking hold of her. Finally, she fired up the engines and said a silent prayer. The structural damage to the shuttle would cause some problems but if she flew low, it ought to be fine. Slowly, the shuttle lifted. The sound of the engines was startling loud, there was some slight wobbling but it was stable. With trembling hands, she set the course and put it on autopilot. She was in no fit state to fly it. Closing her eyes, she settled back in the seat, shivering and struggling to stay awake.

It was a gut wrenching half hour journey. When the autopilot beeped a warning, she was able to land the shuttle back at the settlement and finally enabled the onboard emergency beacon. The Alliance cruiser in orbit would soon send someone. With that, she staggered from the seat and laid herself down. Rest. She could finally rest. Would she see the rest of her unit?


	7. Chapter 7

"You almost died," Liara murmured, her voice tinged with fear. Although aware Shepard mute as much of the distress she had felt back then, the intensity of the agony still set her tinging in empathy but compared to the trauma she felt from her two years ago, it was less taxing.

"Made a career out of it, didn't I?" Shepard said half-jokingly, saw Liara's eyes turned inward and felt her emotions. "Hey, it's over, old history and I'm here, aren't I?" she clasped her bondmate's hands holding her face. "And I kept my promise," she kissed her lightly before moving in closer to nuzzle her neck, hands moving to caress her gently, to bring her out of that negative memory of pain.

The change from roiling disturbance to ardor brought Liara back to herself as she held Shepard to her as she was borne back down into the pillows. It was the present she wanted to feel. The sensation of her bondmate's touch, her body, her scent, the strength of her personality and the love they had for each other. Was it time? It had been two years already. They were ready, were they not? She was ready. It was what she wanted most. What they wanted. Mentally she reached out. There was no need for spoken words in preparation for the meld, already she could feel Shepard reaching out for her and and she gasped when they meshed smoothly. There was only one. Sensitivity steadily heightened at every touch, building to a heated crescendo that banished any coherent thought.

_Goddess, when would we be_? It was not the same. Never had been for four years. Not since that night before the attack on Chronos Station had there been a complete joining. Liara wondered if her bondmate realised it but doubted it. Saddess welled up within and she quickly shielded it before stamping it down. Patience, patience. Lightly, she stroked her bondmate's back, distracting herself with the feel of smooth skin. A soft chime. Seconds later, another chime.

"I'd prefer to stay in bed," Shepard muttered next to Liara's ear.

"On any other day but not today," Liara dimpled, pushing Shepard off her gently. "Today, you have to make a good impression."

"Good idea, perhaps I'll report in, in my birthday suit," Shepard laughed. "Garrus always said just the news of my impending presence is enough to send shockwaves. Imagine what my birthday suit would do."

"Less of a shockwave than you imagine with the group today," Liara climbed over her bondmate, waved a hand over the face of the timer that was chiming more rapidly and stood beside the bed. "On your feet, soldier," she said with mock severity before holding out a hand with a impish smile.

"Yes sir," Shepard jumped to her feet before taking Liara's hand and led her to the bathroom. "You might make Admiral one day."

"Really?"

"Yes, Admiral of the showers...ow!"

Much later, Shepard examined her neck in the mirror of the wardrobe, certain Liara had given her a hickie or two when their shower had turned passionate. Her back was burning slightly from the scratches delivered by Liara's nails. It was not unusual to receive such attentions but they tend to be lighter. She twisted around to take a look at her back. Were those puncture marks? Ouch, Liara was definitely more aggressive in the shower, odd. Stranger still, she felt she was holding back something from her and that peeved her a little. _Perhaps I'm too idealistic. Bondmates can't exactly share every little itty bitty thought._

A sound from the bathroom warned her that Liara was about to emerge. Quickly she reached into the wardrobe and pulled on her underclothes. Hesitantly for a moment, she looked at the uniform and then put on the black shirt and navy coloured pants, slipped her feet into boots placed at the bottom of the wardrobe but did not reach for the matching tunic. As she stood there, a blue hand opened the other side of the wardrobe to bring out a cream coloured suit. Moments later, it reached for the tunic and held it out to her.

"Shepard."

Reluctantly, she took it and drew it on, saying nothing when Liara turned her and fastened it for her before stepping back. They stared at each other.

"How'd I look?" Shepard held out her arms before tugging at the tunic.

"Spiffy," Liara smiled before hugging her, feeling the tension in her body before taking her hand. "Effia has already prepared breakfast."

Hand in hand, they went out of the room, down the corridor to a graceful spiraling stairs to the ground floor, through a large hall with a stream winding along the length, and into one of the smaller rooms in the adjacent wing where as Liara had mentioned, breakfast had been set out for them at one end of a long oval table with rounded corners. It still felt a little strange and formal to sit down to properly laid out crockery, cutlery and food that would look right at home in a restaurant. It had always been the food tray, recycled cutlery and mass cooked food or depending on circumstances, energy bars. The times Shepard could ever recall sitting to a rare planned meal, with parents usually off on some duty in their military careers, was in her childhood and as a teenage, the smattering occasions of attending a party.

Without further ado, Shepard reached for the round slices resting on a plate and layered on a spread which tasted like blueberry to her from a side dish. It took her a while longer to get used to the taste of Reilio, a plant eaten raw, as it reminded her somewhat of Brussels sprouts though the strong nutty flavour to it made up for that slight raw undertaste. Not a favourite but she would grow into it. One for Liara, one for herself. She tucked into the stew. It was creamy grainy, with slices of a meat, which she was told, came from one the many edible fish of the ocean. Its name was unpronounceable but she callled it a snorker, having seen a picture of it, since it has a snork like snout. Whatever it was, its flesh was tender and sweet. Pieces of fruit, slightly tart, rounded off the stew.

Thoughts turned to the tasks of the day and conversation was desultory as they read the updates displayed on the small screens of their omni-tools. Liara was pleased to note Shepard's distraction with more updates with the rebuilding progress back on Earth as it shifted her thoughts to a more positive path. A tagged message popped up at the corner of her screen and she quickly shielded her thoughts, flicking her eyes to Shepard who did not look up. The message was shunted to another section, she would make the call later. More messages appeared and automatically dumped into various boxes as she finished her meal. Once done, she shut down her omni-tool and gently tapped Shepard's hand when she saw she had finished as well. Together, they left the dining room and made their way to the skycar at the entrance of the house.

As they lifted to the air, Liara looked down at their home. One of the few T'Soni estates to survive intact from the Reaper invasion. Set into the side of a mountain near a lake, it was far from the city and remote to be overlooked by Reaper forces. The same could not be said of most of the Asari however. Their population had been badly decimated and most of the habitable cities devastated. Zones had to be laboriously and slowly cleared by the survivors, both on planet and returning from other worlds and colonies. Their first task was to destroy surviving husks. Without the Reapers' direction, they had simply stood where they were. The husks and whatever else remained were packed and loaded into large portable crates onboard surviving ships and shuttles and pitched into the sun. The same was done with the dead Reapers though this task was not accomplished by any organic being. Rather, the Geth had volunteered and had divided their forces accordingly to aid the organics. It was slow work, even with mechs. Nevertheless, the Geth cleared enough to deem a couple of zones safe, after thorough sweeps for Reaper devices, for resettlement and rebuilding had only begun slightly more than a year ago.

Evidence of that rebuilding began to appear as they approached the city. Completed and renovated buildings gleamed while the foundations of others laid bare. Streets and bridges were clear and sound, filled with people going on various activities in rejuvenated gardens and parks, skycars streamed to and fro. Signs of a bustling, breathing city. It eased Liara's heart very much to see such a sight and she reached out to touch Shepard's arm who looked across and was pleased to see the smile on Liara's lips. If this was happening on Thessia, it should be just about the same on other home worlds.

Her relaxed mood slowly changed however, as they neared their destination and Liara felt it. However, she said nothing until Shepard set the skycar down in front of an imposing building. They sat in the car, watching uniformed Asari moved in and out of the building.

"Shepard, you'll be fine," Liara said finally when her bondmate did not move after several minutes. From where she was sitting, there was already a stir at the entrance. They would be looking out for Shepard, of course.

"I...guess so," Shepard took a deep breath, having noticed the same thing. Was she ready?

"I'll see you later. Go," she pushed Shepard gently, urging her out of the air car and then turned Shepard back to her when she was about to open the door to kiss her deeply. "Think of tonight."

"That's ...," coughed Shepard, a little red faced," that's not exactly the right attitude or thought to bring with me."

"It's just exactly right for you."

With that Liara reached across, opened the door and propelled Shepard out. With the help of a little biotics.


	8. Chapter 8

Liara knew Shepard was off balance at being ejected in such a manner for she stood there in bemusement, watching as the skycar depart. As she turned her head back for a quick look, there was already a couple of uniformed Asari making a beeline for Shepard. _She'll be fine._ Casting a last look, she set a new destination, put the skycar on autopilot and brought up her omni-tool to deal with the block of messages downloaded earlier since she had no idea how long the impending dialogue would take. As she worked, the skycar floated easily to mingle with the stream of vehicles flowing through the city, automatically changing directions when required. It beeped a warning as it approached its objective at which Liara closed down her omni-tool and took over, driving straight into the traffic tunnel of a large complex with a amber coloured facade of spiralling spires reaching skywards.

After making a few turns, she landed the car near the lobby of an entrance marked Research and Development and headed past the main doors, a strobe of light swiftly played over her and then vanished. She nodded in acknowledgement as a few lab technicians about their various tasks in the main corridor murmured a greeting and headed straight for the main lift that would take her to the medical centre. It was mostly populated with Asari, with a sprinkling of Humans and Salarians. Despite the numbers, their voices were a low hum and she could hear the soft music playing in the background. On another occasion, she would have paused to listen as it was one of her favourite pieces but she had an appointment so she threaded her way through the crowd and down a long passage. After several turns, there was less people as she was farther away from the main medical facilities. Through another set of doors and after a brief exchange with one of the assistants, she made her way to a familiar office where a Asari sat at a desk beside a wall length window.

"Liara," greeted the older Asari at her entrance, getting up from the desk to gesture at a pair of seats by the window.

"Weia," Liara returned with a smile and sat down in her customary seat.

"You're looking bright today," Weia observed warmly as she sat down opposite Liara. "Your bondmate?"

"We're doing fine," Liara said softly, looking steadily at Weia before looking down at her hands, clasped before her. "She's ... dreaming again."

"The same ...?"

"No," Liara shook her head. "It's not the same. Not the one about the burning and the shadows. This one was about one of her earlier missions."

"Which mission?" Weia tapped a key on her seat, bringing up displays.

"Akuze."

"Akuze...," a slight frown on Weia's brow as she made a query on the console.

'Her unit was sent out to investigate the disappearance of a pioneer colony. They were attacked by a thrasher maw and ..," Liara took a deep breath, "she was the only one to survive."

"Ahhh...," a wave of a hand and the displays were banished a few minutes later. Weia assessed Liara keenly, sensing her disturbance. "I presume you asked for the memory?"

"Yes, I did," a stubborn note entered Liara's voice. "I have to know," she said when Weia only looked at her.

"Of course you do," a gentle note of understanding. "You're not wrong but do take precautions lest the memory overwhelm you," she said. "She starts her new assignment today doesn't she?" she added thoughtfully.

"Does it have something to do with that?" Liara shifted in her seat.

"Perhaps. Whether it's a good sign depends largely on later developments. At the moment, we can only wait."

"I'd prefer to think positively," Liara said firmly. "She's not the same as she was a year ago," she said softly, recalling how Shepard had been after recovering from the injuries sustained in the final battle. How stressed and off temper she was, such a stark contrast to her usual self. All of which was worsened by suspicion that she had been affected by the Reapers, the countless pyschological evaluations and the perpetual public eye on her that did not help at all. Their relationship had suffered as Shepard increasingly became less approachable. It came to a point when they could hardly hold a conversation together and the tension was distressing. Unable to bear it any longer, she had forced Shepard to face up to what was happening to her, to them. That had brought about a storm of words which she never thought she would have with Shepard. It had left both of them hurt, angry and in shock. An extremely contrite Shepard finally decided to do something about it and that was to resign from the Alliance.

She did not think it was a good decision, made in the heat of emotions but Shepard could not be desuaded. Admiral Hackett did not think it either when contacted. Whether he had any idea of the problems Shepard was facing; she suspected he did, he refused to accept Shepard's resignation and instead told her she was assigned indefinite leave, that she had more than earned it. That had left Shepard in a quandary but she had persuaded her to see the better side of it and thereafter, they had come to Thessia.

"Neither are you," Weia cocked her head as she examined Liara visually. "This would have been easier if she could be persuaded to talk to me but the humans have to go and mess it up," she shook her head in disgust. "And then thought it's a good idea to just throw her over here."

"At least it was her idea, not theirs."

"Or yours," Weia returned blandly. "As you found out for yourself, removing her from the original source of her entanglement only marginally improved the situation."

"I know," sighed Liara ruefully. "I thought it was the best thing to do."

"Well, no need to beat yourself up over it bow. The best panacea has always been the supportive presence of loved ones and the both of you are doing well. In sight of such progress in these two years, you would have something in mind?"

"I do," Liara was not surprised Weia suspected what she had planned. The subject had been allued to in their many dialogues but she had always declined to go over the subject. "I think it's time we...raise a family," she hesitated. "We talked about it."

"When was this?"

"A couple of times before the war ended."

"And?" Weia probbed when Liara stopped.

"She said we'll have little blue children," a smile lit Liara's lips as she remembered those times. How embarrassed but happy she had been at Shepard's answer. Her bondmate had been looking on the bright side when she could have easily said otherwise. Neither of them had wanted to talk otherwise then, reality was already bleak enough. Until that time in London.

"What about now?" The question brought Liara back to the present.

"The topic never came up," she sighed. It was hardly a topic to bring up when Shepard simply seemed to collapse the moment they settled on Thessia. Nightmares of the same sort recurring every night and displays of uneven tempers. Even though they shared a bed, they did not have any intimacies. Too tired was one of many excuses Shepard had used when she tried to initiate a joining. Despite the hurt, she understood her bondmate had not wanted to pull her into her burdens so she had waited and waited. The life they had together was not exactly what she had envisioned years before. Finally, when there were no signs of improvement after a few months, she had tried to tackle the problem herself, trying to persuade Shepard to a simple mind meld but ended up setting a worse barrier between them when she refused. Matters might had been worst had Aethyta not finally intervened. It was only when she had gone to Weia on Aethyta's advice that she realised she herself was having some problems that had been undermining her since Benezia's death.

"But you feel you're ready," Weia said, "and she's not."

"I'm not sure." Liara did not like to feel uncertain about Shepard in regard to such a important matter. We share the same desires in this aspect. _I know we do. Why am I thinking she has changed her mind?_

"I think it's time you tell her about the sessions you had with me," Weia said slowly, watching the subtle display of confusion on Liara's face.

"But...," Liara began to protest and then stopped.

"Once you start to deliberately shield certain thoughts from your bondmate, feelings of gulit would arise even though it's for her own sake. Those feelings lead to uncertainty, misundertsandings and doubts. You are ready to build the future with her, hence you cannot have such an impediment," Weia said firmly. "You see it, don't you?" she stood up and moved to the window. "This day starts with a bright morning. How do I know that? The answer is obvious," she waved at the clear sky. "As such I see my path and I know what I will do, this day, with a clear mind and purpose. Should the sky turned a different colour later, still, my mind is clear. Can I do that if the sky is murky from the onset?"

"I think she feels I'm holding something from her even though she does not voice it," said Liara as she joined Weia at the window.

"All the more reason to clear the sky," Weia smiled, lightly touching Liara's arm. "With what you have told me these past months, you have nothing to worry about."

"What if you're wrong?"

"You have to try, Liara," Weia said softly. "She needs to see the chains she had bound around herself. And she cannot do that without you."


	9. Chapter 9

_She could at least let me get out on my own._ Shepard stared after the fast disappearing skycar, piqued. Lest to say, not exactly the kind of entrance to make today, she knew that. Her eyes fell on the two uniformed Asari rapidly heading for her and wondered if they had seen the way she exited the car. _Garrus would probably say I'd started a fad. Wonder what he's doing right now on Palaven. Probably calibrating the Turian High Command. If they would let him._ As they came nearer, she noted their facial markings. One had greenish red streaks beginning from the brow stretching back to the crest, the other had purple markings around the eyes and along the sides of her face. As usual, she was unable to guess their age though she would judge that they were probably matrons; there was an "oldish" air about them.

"Captain Shepard?" the Asari with the purple markings came to attention when she reached Shepard. "I'm Captain Nyrine Rylaer. This is my assistant, Lt Sanar T'Enaire. It is our pleasure to welcome one of the most notable member of the Alliance to the academy."

"The pleasure is mine," Shepard returned politely, nodding to the other Asari and followed Nyrine when she indicated they should proceed, surprised that they did not have more to say but sensed a subtle tension from the Asari captain despite her impassive demeanor. Probably because her tardiness had messed up whatever plans they had in mind or maybe they like it that way which suited Shepard just fine. The few Asari at the entrance had disappeared by the time they passed through the doors, the light ray from the security scanner playing over each of them before vanishing.

"Matriach Zelenia extends apologies for not being able to attend at the moment," said Nyrine when they reached the empty semi-circular foyer that held a large shut door, "but the tour will proceed as planned, please," she gestured that Shepard should step to the door. "Your identity is already logged."

Past the door, was a long passage with large rooms on either side. Administration explained Nyrine as Shepard glanced through the windows amd was startled when several of the Asari within looked up and either waved or spoke to whomever was nearest; seemingly excited. Having lived on Thessia for two years, such reactions were highly indicative the Asari were maidens which meant they tend to be rather emotive. She could be mistaken but she hoped she would not run into them by the time she left. Once past the next set of doors, they were in the canteen, empty at the moment, then the dormitory. The size of which could easily hold several hundred and right then, it seemed fully occupied though it seemed there were empty bunks at the back. Shepard could not quite recall a Alliance barracks this large. Why do the Asari had need one of such size?

"This used to be a commercial supply depot," said Nyrine, on Shepard's query. "It is repurposed to serve as the current default training academy for the huntresses, commandos and military trainees since many of the training camps in other cities and communities were destroyed in the war."

"These are the all the recruits from the other communities?"

"Not all," Nyrine shook her head. "We can only take in those best qualified at the moment. The others would have to wait until we can set up another academy in the next zone declared safe for resettlement."

"I see," Shepard murmured, watching the nearest groups of Asari used their biotics to throw items, which vary in size, randomly to one another while sitting on their bunks. A very useful exercise in coordination and reaction. A smile played around her lips when one Asari managed to field three items thrown at her without warning from different trajectories. Another failed in her endeavor and the item went sailing off before it was halted by another not participating in the exercise. It reminded her of her own biotic training with all the pitfalls and triumphs of the course.

"Various exercises are held while they wait," continued Nyrine, waving towards the groups near them, "their turn at the various training facilities which is our next stop. This way," she turned away to head for a lift a short distance away. Certainly, the Asari captain was in a hurry, Shepard decided, stilling the request to observe the various activities rising in her throat.

"Perhaps the captain would like a closer look at the exercises?" put in Sanar, who had been silent and hovering like a ghost in Nyrine's wake. There was a barely visible stiffening to Nyrine's back but she turned back to cast a polite inquiring look at Shepard.

"Another day perhaps," Shepard declined before nodding a silent thanks to Sanar once Nyrine turned back. The younger Asari only flashed a brief smile, not seeming worried she might had stepped out of place with her superior. Before they could continue the tour however, Nyrine pulled up suddenly to clap a hand to her omni-tool, muttered something under her breath.

"My apologies, Captain Shepard, I've an urgent matter to tend to," she said quickly," Sanar here will conduct the rest of the tour." Without another word, she marched off back where they had come from and vanished from sight as both Shepard and Sanar watched her go.

"She...has many things to deal with," Sanar offered tacitly to which Shepard only nodded. Whilst Nyrine was not exactly rude, neither was she that warm. For Shepard, it did not matter. With so much to rebuild after the war, it was no surprise people generally suffered post-war problems and shortfalls in temperament. I should know.

They continued on to the lift and took it down to the lower levels which used to be the cold storage, now it was converted into different training zones. Sanar took Shepard to the CIC of the training centre where they could observe the current progress of ongoing training exercises. Asari soldiers manning the consoles would occasionally speak softly over their comlinks as they scrutinized the activities. The CIC was Nyrine's command, explained Sanar. There was usually no central headquarters for huntresses and commandos as each city and community had their own training grounds and doctrines. When there was a need to muster for a common purpose, it was decided through concensus among the matriach repsentatives of each republic on who to send and who should assume command. Often than not, squads of commandos were mostly given the primary purpose of their mission and let to individually decide how it should be carried out. Shepard could see the advantage of this; it left no room for a arm chair general sitting comfortably and safe on his posterior to meddle in on-site developments.

"You're saying it's different now," Shepard looked at one of the overhead screens where it showed a group of huntresses set against one another in a dark environment.

"We lost too many experienced soldiers," Sanar said sadly, "matriachs, records and materials. The lost of so many lives, the wealth of knowledge amassed through the centuries is a deep blow to us."

"I understand," Shepard lightly touched Sanar's arm in sympathy.

"As it is, we have to abandon the old way of training as there are not enough qualified huntresses and commandos," Sanar smiled, took a deep breath and waved at another screen. "As you can see, we have to reform to accomodate larger units."

"That looks more like a company," Shepard sized up the numbers with a glance.

"Yes," Sanar nodded, "we have to shorten the training period as well."

"Doesn't it take twenty to thirty years?"

"We don't have that luxury at the moment," a sombre note. "They have at most six months to a year."

"How bad is it?" Inwardly, Shepard braced herself.

"I've no idea, in truth," Sanar admitted. "But when I saw the training proposal, there is only one possibility. Our current forces are not enough, we need more soldiers to counter the indoctrinated."

The indoctrinated. Hearing it often produced a sour angry note within Shepard. Even with the Reapers gone, their handiwork had remained. It was a given not all survivors would come through unscathed. There would be damage, physically and mentally. Those could be dealt with over the years. What could not be dealt with as leisurely were those who had been indoctrinated. True to form, the Reapers had converted many with the intention to use them against the organics who resist them, as they did to the Protheans fifty thousand years ago. With their masters gone, those indoctrinated with much of their intelligence intact had simply converted the mission of subtle conquest to one of revenge. To the survivors of the Reaper War, it was a neverending nightmare for it was their own they were fighting against.

"But, we should talk of this later," Sanar shifted away from the screens, "would you like a close up look at some of the exercises, captain?"

"That would be much appreciated," it was a too interesting a suggestion to pass up so Shepard accepted eagerly.


	10. Chapter 10

A burst of light, glowing with power, smashed against the glass before dissipating. Seconds later, another. Then, another. Each time, the energy casted was weaker. Finally, no more light appeared and the Asari slumped to the floor. Even though exhaustion was evident, her fury had not waned. Her eyes spewed venom before finally, too tired to keep them open, she laid down on the floor. Silence in the laboratory except for soft beeps as fingers swept over keys and displays.

"Any change?" Liara glanced over to the lab technicans, standng at their consoles and bit back a sigh when they shook their heads. "All right, dose her and send her back to her room."

"I'd recommend a higher dosage, she's building up resistance," one of them, a Salarian, said and made adjustments when Liara nodded.

Tiredly, she stepped back from her console and crossed her arms, contemplating the Asari as the vents in the observation room injected anesthetic fumes. Moments later, the unconscious Asari was shifted to a bed trolley and wheeled away. Heaving a sigh, she shut down her console, checked her omni-tool and made her way to the Director's office in the upper levels. She was already late but she just had to make another attempt to get some results. In the lift, she leaned against the cool wall and wondered if there was no way to rehabilitate those who were lost.

It had all seemed so cut and dried. Victory against all odds. The future of the organics ensured. After the exultation of achievement, had come the hard task of reconstruction. The Victory Fleet had dispersed, each fleet returning to their homeworld to begin gathering the survivors and proceed with the restoration. A long term mission that would span decades. It was what each governance was prepared for. What they had not foreseen, or rather, had forgotten in the euphoria of victory, was the effect Reaper influence on those who had live under it for so long. Teams sent to investigate cities came under attack. Lives were lost. Amidst the confusion, no one understood why their own was attacking those who had come to succor them. Shepard's suggestion that they were indoctrinated had sent shockwaves and disbelief. After a few of the indoctrinated were captured and interrogated, did they come to realise that the war had not truly ended with the Reapers. Now they had to deal with their thralls.

The news of the indoctrinated was badly received. Weeks of angry discourses and denial followed and practically brought to a halt every scheme of settlement on Thessia. Until survivors from the outlying communities far from the major cities came forward to confirm that fact did the furor finally died down. To all, it was the hardest obstacle to overcome as inevitably, clans, love ones and friends were afflicted. How were they to prevail?

It was not easy. Liara rubbed at the mild throbbing on her brow as she recalled Shepard's account with Dr Kenson. Even though Shepard had felt something was amissed during her dialogue with the scientist onboard the shuttle, the alarming prospect of imminent Reaper invasion had overrode her instincts. Not once did she suspect Kenson had been indoctrinated until she saw Object Rho. Had she had the opportunity to speak to Saren before they encountered each other at Eden Prime, the thought that something was wrong would not even had crossed her mind. That itself, was the major problem they faced initially ; how to sift out those who had been indoctrinated or TI as they were called eventually.

They would have been mired, unable to find an answer to the situation had it not been for Vendetta, the Prothean VI. It had provided the solution by sharing a set of scanner algorithms used by the Protheans to identify the thralls. Not all were in favor of utilising it; there were fears it was not infallible and that innocents might be harmed. However, the results, after a few test runs on captives and others, proved that it worked. Despite the few detractors, the improved feature was incorporated into security scanners and military omni-tools.

It sounded so easy. Just remove the thralls and rebuild. Liara closed her eyes._ How many more lives have we banished since we began?_ She hugged herself, wishing Shepard was with her. _But we don't have a choice, it's either us or them. Goddess, why did it have to come to this?_ She twisted her lips wryly as she thought of that invocation. Javik would heartily approve of the harsh approach. He must be having the time of his life "governing" his patch over the Hanar right now. Wasn't that what Shepard said the other night? She straightened as the doors of the lift opened and hastened her steps to the office, only to turn to the com room when the director's assistant met her at the door and pointed in that direction. Taking a deep breath, she entered the com room where two Asari stood before the video feed, conversing with a Turian and a Human.

"Liara, please, join us," said matriach Telienos, evidently forewarned by her assistant, moved aside slightly so Liara could step up to the video pickup.

"Telienos, Peliar," Liara nodded to the younger Asari. "Primach Victus, Admiral Hackett," she greeted, wondering what unpleasant developments had occurred during her time in the lab.

"Do you have any updates to provide, Dr T'Soni?" said Victus.

"I'm afraid not," Liara shook her head. "The earlier prognosis of the effect of indoctrination is correct, brain atrophy is progressive. At the current rate, we're looking at a steady three year degeneracy before final dissolution. Attempts in rehabilitation of healthy subjects have not been successful thus far."

"I would say this is good news but unfortunately, we cannot wait for the TI to die out on their own," Hackett said grimly. "I've received reports from the relief fleet at outlying colonies that the there have been several incidents of mass abductions."

"Mass abductions?" Peliar said in confusion. "To what end? Isn't their purpose to destroy the perpetrators of their masters' destruction?"

"That goal has not changed. What they wish to change is the numbers they can throw at us," Victus's mandibles seemed to withdraw in his agitation.

"Which means they have existing Reaper devices," Telienos said softly though her body tensed. Liara noticed her hands were clenched tightly by her sides.

"That is our fear," Hackett nodded. "Up until now, they have engaged in sabotages and guerilla warfare in encounters in the last two years. We don't have an actual estimate of their exisiting numbers but they could be taking a higher rate of casualties which they need to replace."

"I do not see what we can do to help, Admiral," Peliar waved at her companions, "we are scientists, not military strategists."

"We provide whatever we can," Telienos threw a withering glance at Peliar as Liara held her tongue.

"We have discussed the probability of acelerating the rate of atrophy," Victus dropped the bombshell. For a moment, no one said anything. Liara closed her eyes, feeling sick.

"This proposal is currently under consideration by the Council but we have been given authorization to...have a private discussion." There was nothing in Hackett's voice to indicate he was disturbed. Liara would have been surprised if he was. Victus's mandibles had not even moved an inch, it was as if he was holding himself in check.

A private discussion. If they said they had the means, would the proposal be approved? No matter how Liara see it, there was no way it would not be. It would be carried out on the sly, without anyone in the military the wiser if they were given plausible explanations of the weapons they were using. How was it right? _As right as what we're doing right now with those who have been captured?_

"Peliar?" a stir from Telienos drew her attention.

"I...I'll have to consult with my colleagues," stuttered a shaken Peliar.

"Very well, a panel will convene shortly and...," Telienos drew a deep breath, "we will advise you of the results. Is there anything else?"

"No, thank you, director Telienos," Hackett said as Victus nodded before withdrawing. "If I may have a moment to confer with Dr T'Soni?"

"Of course," with a wave to a pale Peliar, Teleinos left the room.

"What is it, Admiral?" Liara said, a suspicion on what the admiral's next topic would be.

"How is Shepard?"

"She is doing very well, sir," Liara tried to shove away the cold stone in her stomach. _Please, please ..._

"That is not much to go on, Dr," Hackett seemed amused. Did he sense her fear? "Given the problems she was facing two years ago."

"I was not aware the admiral is acquainted with Shepard's situation." What had gotten over her? She sounded almost rude and snappish.

"Liara T'soni," Hackett closed inslightly on the pickup on his end, as if to look at her eye to eye, "a good soldier knows how to maintain his arms, when to attack, when to retreat. It's no different with those under his command."

"I'm sorry, sir," she sighed. "She is really doing well."

"I see,' Hackett looked up at something off the side. "Tell her I expect a report within a week. Hackett out."

_Goddess, what possessed me to talk like that?_ Liara pressed her fingers to her head. _I need a rest._


	11. Chapter 11

"Our live fire exercises are of a different aspect."

That's a huge understatement. For a moment, Shepard said nothing as she ran over the simulations she had seen. They were impressive, far reaching in range and diverse in environment and mission objectives, given the number of recruits and the limitations of the facilities at hand. The Alliance had almost as similar except that their military personnel were not entirely biotic whereas the Asari, from top to bottom, were. Military doctrines would be different, given that the Asari usually engaged in very small groups and were more suitable for clandestine assignments but it was unnerving to find that their live fire exercises required the partcipants to be fired upon rather than vice versa. The risks of losing trainees to injury was extremely high. Did they have to use such drastic measures? It was a question Shepard had to ask as the small group comprising of matriach Zelenia, Nyrine and Sarna sat down to a late lunch in Zelenia's office.

"Every single trainee that entered the training grounds is a maiden," said Zelenia, hands clasped loosely before her on the table, speaking in a deep modulate tone that Shepard found fascinating. Too she was the first Asari she had thus come across that visibly showed the signs of her age and she was trying her hardest not to stare too much. "The average training she could usually expect spans from twenty to thiry years. Time enough to hone her martial skills, mind and body. That is why our huntresses and commandos are held in high regard," she said with a tinge of pride that Shepard could not fault since it was the truth.

"Time enough to mature before she is sent out with her compatriots. Humans would call such process, blooding, is it not?" she looked at Shepard who nodded. "That was what used to be. Now we have to send her out before she has fully matured. Before, it was a chosen profession, now it is a matter of survival. Each of them volunteer for various reasons. No matter what that is, it does not change the fact her chances of returning are markedly low, given what she has to face in our present crisis," she sighed. "Another consideration is that most Asari, at the maiden stage of their lives, tend to be impetuous."

"So, it is a process of elimination, assessment," said Shepard, absently twirling the cup of coffee before her with her fingers, "and object lesson."

"Yes, a harsh lesson. Given that she is facing her own people. This is a difficult time for us, captain," Zelenia gazed steadily at Shepard. "For the first ever, in our long history, we have to fight against our own. A conflict that will see thousands more lives lost in order that thousands more may live to build the future. To ensure that future, we have to send out our young."

"My own people," Shepard said softly, "face no such dilemma. Our own history is littered with internal squabbles and conflicts."

"It is an advantage, from a point of view," Zelenia leaned forward, "captain, on the ground, our forces primarily engage in small numbers. Mobility and stealth has always been the foremost core of our operations but in this battle to reclaim Thessia, it has become our weakness. We do not have the number of experienced commandos nor the ability to withstand a firestorm. We are unable to take any position long enough to reinforce it. Thus far, we have been able to hold on to the free zones because our main force is concentrated within these two cities but that is about to change."

Nyrine and Sanar, who had been listening quietly, looked startled.

"Change? In what way?" queried Shepard uneasily as her mind conjured up various possibilties.

"I received an update this morning that there is a possibility the TI might be looking to augment their numbers. There have been reports of mass abductions at outflung settlements. Contact have been lost with several remote communities."

"Abductions?" Nyrine blurted in disbelief.

"How would that increase their numbers?" added a confused Sanar for she was certain none of the abductees would cooperate.

"It takes time for indoctrination to set in," Shepard said quietly. Nyrine and Sanar stared at her before looking back at Zelenia, comprehension clear in their eyes. "But even so...," she hesitated.

"We no longer have the luxury of time. Thinking we can wither them down," Zelenia glanced at the two younger Asari. "It has been decided. We have to speed up the retaking of Thessia."

"That means going on the offensive," said Nyrine in a wooden voice. "And dangerous with Reaper derelicts and devices on the battlefields."

"The offensive would have to be a massive decisive strike. A prolong campaign means extensive exposure to indoctrination influences," observed Shepard, eyes narrowed in concentration as she mentally worked the scenario.

"That is correct," Zelenia nodded in agreement. "The purpose is to ...," she paused for a brief moment before continuing,"remove as many as possible of the TI, curtail their ability to move about freely and destroy any Reaper devices."

About time. Shepard watched Nyrine and Sanar curiously. Would they accept the decision? As a bystander through the months of rebuilding efforts, Shepard had never quite understand the Asari rationale of taking it slow when there was a need for speed. Eradication of the TI menace was necessary, however much it cut, if the Asari wanted to rebuild their world. It was a view she and Liara did not quite see eye to eye. As with all Asari, Liara had supported the stance that every means should be tried to recover the lost. It was not that Shepard was unsympathetic, but considering that Liara was a witness to how her own mother, Benezia, was affected, she thought her bondmate would be more astute. As it was, the Asari were practically stagnated in their efforts to try to deal with their own TI.

"How can I help?" she said when Nyrine and Sanar remained silent.

"By providing your military expertise in those areas we lack experience in because this time, we are deploying in larger units."

* * *

The throb had settled to a bearable ache by the time the skycar set down by the entrance. Rubbing her brow gently as she stepped out of the car, Liara wondered if she should have taken some medication for it in order to be in the best state of mind, considering what she intended to discuss with Shepard. Well, if not today, perhaps another day. She told herself as she walked into the house to see Effia, the housekeeper inherited along with the house, and her assistants busy around the hall.

"Liara, you're back," Effia hurried to greet her, smiling as Liara gave her a hug. "A little off colour," she said with some concern, lightly touching Liara's cheek.

"I'm fine, it was a busy day," Liara assured her before casting her eyes up the stairs. "Is she...?"

"She's back, an hour before you," Effia said, following her gaze. "Seems a little ...agitated."

"Agitated?"

"Or was it excited?" Effia cocked her head. "After more than a year, you'd think I know how to read the works on a human face."

"Thank you Effia, I think I'll go find her," Liara said, starting up the stairs, heart hammering.

It was supposed to be just a tour around the training facilities, followed by a discussion on how Shepard could aid with the training. Was that not how it was put to her? A slow way of reintroducing her into active military life after months of pushing papers on Thessia. Flying a desk, Joker had quipped to EDI during their last day onboard the Normandy though Liara had not quite understood what he had been alluding to. Not that flying a desk had really helped Shepard with her problem.

She opened the door of the bedroom. At first glance, it was empty until she noticed the door of the closet next to the wardrobe was opened. As she walked to the door, she noticed in passing the discarded tunic on the bed. There was only one reason she would be in the closet. Quietly, she stood at the door, watching as Shepard who had her back to her, tried on the right gauntlet of the N7 armor. The muscles in her arm flexing as she twisted and turned. As she made a fist and turned to punch an imaginary opponent, she saw Liara and flashed her a smile that brought a ache to Liara's heart.

"Hey, I didn't know you're home," pulling off the gauntlet, Shepard returned it to the armor stand before moving to clasp Liara in a hug. "What's wrong?" she said, feeling the tension in her bondmate.

"Nothing, just...too much workload," Liara slide her fingers down Shepard's corded back to distract herself.

"A walk might do you some good then."

Taking her hand, Shepard led her out of the bedroom, down the stairs and out to the garden which she knew was one of Liara's favourite places. It had come to be her own too for it boasted of flowers she had never had seen. Not that she had spent much time admiring flowers, given the number of places she had been bounced around in her childhood and then running around as a marine. But after coming to Thessia that she began to spend time appreciating the local flora which seemed more exotic, coruscating night and day without cease . The setting sun cast a warm glow as they walked slowly along the garden path that ran along a bubbling small stream before coming to a small opened rotunda contructed of trees and flowers cleverly encouraged to interweave and settled into the round couch, almost like a shell, set in the middle.

The scent of the flora floated around them as they half laid in the couch. Liara's weight was familiar and comforting. Her scent twining with the flora was so uniquely hers that Shepard wished she could bottle it. To bring out at times when she was not with Liara so she would not miss her so much. She felt her bondmate's tension ebbed away as she gently stroked her back, pleased that she was less stressed. Poor love. Running yourself ragged trying to find a way to save those people. Whatever are you going to say if you knew what had happened earlier? The perfume of the flowers, the beat her bondmate's heart beneath her ear and her arms around her had never made her feel more secured.. The throb in her head dissipated as she relaxed and Liara felt that there was nothing that could ever compared to what she had then. To lie there, to feel her bondmate's presence, her warmth and be at peace was bliss. She wanted nothing more than to spend every moment with Shepard. Or is there?

"Shepard."

"What is it?"

"I think...we should start on the first of those blue babies."

Silence. The hand on her back stilled.

"What?"


	12. Chapter 12

The last of the setting sun ebbed slowly away into the horizon, sending the garden into a brief blazon of scintillating fire with the last touches of its fingers. Neither of the two lying in the couch in the garden noticed it as they stared at each other. For a moment, Shepard did not know what to say, caught in a swinging pendulum as joy swept away the initial shock to uncertainty before fear came to roost.

"Shepard?" The puzzlement and query in Liara's eyes when she remained silent was more than she could take and she sat up. Bereft of warmth and the expected response, Liara tried to still the trembling in her fingers as she reached out to touch Shepard's shoulder.

"Liara .. I," Shepard rubbed a hand over her face, wishing she could scrub away the fear. "I...it's not a good time."

"I don't understand," Liara said softly as she tried to sort out the waves of distress that seemed to converge on her.

"It's just that...," it was hard to pin down the roiling within as Shepard grope for an answer. "I think..," she took a deep breath. "We should wait a while longer. I mean, with the current situation.."

"Shepard, recovering Thessia will take years," pushing away the waves of emotions rushing at her, Liara sat up, trying without success to discern Shepard's countenance in the onsetting gloom, recalling Weia's words, wondering if she was right. "Why do we have to wait that long?"

"It's just that...I'd like things to be more settled," unable to sit still any longer, Shepard got up and began to pace, avoiding Liara's gaze, afraid to see the hurt in those eyes. For surely, she must be hurting and disappointed. "Maybe after this current assignment."

"There will be another and another, are we to wait till you retire?" Liara said evenly.

"That's not what I meant, I...," frustration welled up in Shepard. _What the hell is wrong with me? Why can't I just say yes!_

"I've been talking to a counselor."

"What?" Shepard blinked at that non sequitur. Councilor? Was she ill? "Why?"

"Because I couldn't get anywhere with you in those months after we came here and dad suggested I should talk to someone."

"There's nothing wrong with me!" _Liar._

"Shepard," Liara pleaded. All she could see of her was a dark shadow but she could feel the anger and tension. Both familiar reactions but much milder now compared to the fermenting temper that grew into withdrawal before culminating in despondency after their arrival on Thessia. Months of struggling to cope with an entirely strange and different aspect of Shepard was extremely draining. Additionally, joining had to halt when Shepard showed no inclination to do so. Even when it was resumed after several months, by which she had started to return to a semblance of her old life, it was not the same. Before, she had been able to touch Shepard freely without barriers. More so when they shared that moment in London but now, she felt her bondmate was not wholly giving of herself and it hurt; unable to merge fully, to renew and strengthen the bond. "Avoiding the issue doesn't make it go away."

"I have not," Shepard said tersely, wishing Liara would drop the subject. It was not something she wanted to discuss. "I can tackle any problems."

"This is one problem you cannot settle with a gun or a ship or call or take any of the squad with you," said Liara, taking the plunge. They had been skirting around it long enough. It was time she take up her mettle and shield and forge into battle. For Shepard, for herself. For their future. "Nor can you settle it by trying to shoulder every crisis that comes your way."

"I'm a soldier, it's what I do," came the angry retort.

"Not when you take unneccssary risks!" Taking a deep breath, Liara continued in a calmer tone. "Do you recall that incident outside Toronto?"

"I had to save those soldiers," Shepard tried not to snap, wishing Liara had not brought it up. It had not been the right call to make, nor justified when it endangered more lives. Needlessly so. She could not even fathomed what she had been thinking after returing to the Normandy. Admiral Hackett had not said much on it but she knew he was perturbed. So was the crew. No one raised an issue over it but she knew they were disquieted.

"They were already dead. You knew that. You made an irrational and dangerous decision you never would have made."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Shepard," Liara stood up, moving closer to her, trying to catch her eyes. "Please..."

"There's so much to do," Shepard reined in the urge to rage, not wishing to have Liara on the receiving end. Not when she could feel her unhappiness. So she wants to see a counselor, what does that have to do with me? Nothing to do with me. "I'm late on my exercises, I'll see you later," with that, she turned and walked off, ignoring the call behind her.

_She wants children. I do too._ That thought swirled round and round as she blindly jogged along the garden path, eyes fogged with memory.

_If this all ends tomorrow, what happens to us?_  
_I don't know. Marriage, old age and a lot of little blue children?_

She had said that then because she believed it. Wanted to believe it. A future for them. So why was she hesitating now? There was no reason she could think of. Her breath clogged and she coughed harshly before she realized her heart rate and respiration were too jagged. A slight ache twinged in her chest as she thought of Liara sitting at the rotunda. She pushed on nevertheless, picking up her pace, stroving to drive the confusion from her mind. If only she could understand this fear that cropped up now and then like wisps of smoke. Like this morning, when matriach Zelenia spoke of the trainees. There was nothing she could put a finger on to explain it. Nor the burning anger that took over. Both of which had dissipated when the discussion turned to the forthcoming strikes against the TI.

Small light globes around the garden blinked into life as darkness set in. Breathing easily, the conversation at the rotunda forgotten, she increased her pace as she ruminated on the proposed plan of preparation. In the coming weeks, she would be overseeing training deployments of a company at the outskirts of the city. No doubt the initial distribution of inexperienced ground forces that large would be rough. Additionally, would they would be able to coordinate adequately was the next issue. It did not matter. Hopefully by the time they went up against the TI, they would operate as well as any Alliance company. Round and round the garden she ran, passing the rotunda a few times but did not notice it was empty. By the time she returned to the house, she was perspiring heavily. Effia said nothing when she walked into the kitchen, eyeing her sweat soaked shirt with slight distaste as she laid out the customary light soup on the table top running along the kitchen counter.

"You do know that no matter how far or how fast you run, whatever you're trying to leave behind isn't going to stop snapping at your heels," she said as she watched Shepard polished off the soup, arms crossed before her as she leaned on the waist high table top.

"I'm not trying anything."

"And that's the killing truth," Effia sighed. "Shepard, you really need to sit down and talk to that bondmate of yours. And before you say you have," she pointed a finger at Shepard when she opened her mouth, "I can tell you, you have not. I've known Liara far longer than you do and it's as clear as that empty bowl before you that she's a few shades off colour."

"Is she sick?" Guilt blossomed afresh as Shepard stared down into the bowl, unable to meet Effia's eyes. _I should have paid more attention to her._

"Sick? Yes, bond sick."

"Bond sick?" Shepard was confused, not having heard of such an illness.

"Humans," Effia snorted impatiently. "Haven't you read up anything? I'd bet Liara scoured every possible information there is on humans."

"I've never come across any notation on bond sickness," Shepard said evenly, refusing to raise to the bite that she was less keen on Liara than Liara was on her. "Anymore than anyone would find anything on Ardat-Yakshi."

"And you wouldn't too," Effia saw the annoyance on Shepard's face and waved her to silence before she could retort. "You do know that we are picky about bondmates, don't you?" she pushed on before Shepard could answer. "Well, most of us do, the few others don't care enough for it. The bonding is everything because we consciously take the step to take a part of the partner we chose within ourselves, to keep, to cherish. Through the bonding, we understand the other through a deeper means other than words. As we take, so do we give equally of ourselves. It is a sacred trust between two."

"I already know...," Shepard began, not wishing to hear another discourse on bonding, having heard it when she and Liara had their ceremony.

"Then do you know it can wither?" Effia interrupted grimly. "It happens when one or the other begins to hold back during the joining. The joining is not just about sex. It's also about renewal."

"Renewal?" Shepard echoed, frowning in perplexity.

"Sure, it's like trawling on the xtranet. What happens were I to lock you in a room for two weeks?" rapping the table sharply with her knuckles, Effia narrowed her eyes as if to see directly into Shepard. "Out of touch," she supplied before Shepard could answer. "Anything could happen in those two weeks and when you come out, you have to acquaint yourself with new developments so you would be able to make adjustments accordingly. How would you go about your life or win a battle fumbling around in the dark? Bonding is like that. Each time we do it, we renew and strengthen that link with our partners. Building upon the foundations first laid until we say, hey, it's time to expand. Unlike the xtranet however, a robust link need not be stimulated because the other is already well established within. Believe me when I say this, bondmates that done it right literally sing the blues. And you two, are not really doing that right now."

"Singing the blues?" Shepard said inanely, wondering if Effia knew that phrase had a different meaning for humans.

"No. You two, are falling apart!" the sudden slam of Effia's hand on the table startled her. "I want the best for Benezia's girl and right now, she seems short changed. She is suffering. You are too whether you admit or not so stop sitting there on your ass and start working the problem. Otherwise, you will lose her," Effia snatched up the empty bowl and marched off into the depths of the kitchen.

For a long moment, Shepard sat there, staring at the spot where the bowl used to be before getting up and making her slow way up the stairs to the bedroom. Effia's last words echoing in her mind. Lose Liara? It was an unbearable thought. Her feet froze on the steps as fear assailed her. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to go on._ No, I can't afford to lose her. I can't. What can I do?_ Quietly, she opened the bedroom door. Dimly lit and empty, saved for the huddled hump at one side of the bed. Silently, she closed the door behind her as she stepped in, bending to remove her boots and socks before padding to the bathroom. Shirt, pants and underclothes went into the clothing recycler. Stepping under the shower, she turned it on.

_What should I do?_ The hot water cascaded down, relieving a little of the coldness she felt. The question loomed largely before her. Her mind seemed unable to move, frozen. A blue hand reached out to turn off the shower.

"You'll catch a cold," said Liara as she drapped a towel on Shepard.

It was then that she realised she had been standing under the shower for quite some time for the bathroom and water under her feet felt chilly. Using another towel, Liara began to dry her hair. A pang hit her when she saw that Liara had been crying. It was all her fault. Effia was right, she should stop running.

"Liara," she reached out to take Liara's hand when she avoided looking at her, stilling her motions. "Make an appointment."

"Appointment?" Liara looked up, hope blossoming in her eyes even as she tried to tone it down, hardly daring to hope.

"Talking to a counselor seems like a good start, don't you think?"

"Shepard!"

The flash of joyous smile on Liara's face before she threw her arms around her was a jarring shock. How long had it been since she last saw Liara smiling or laughing with such happiness?

_I'm sorry love, I've been such a burden. I'll get better. I promise._

_I'll hold you to that._

The flicker of that answer was a tremendous relief and Shepard felt as if a weight had lifted as they shared a kiss.


	13. Chapter 13

The silence was encompassing and stifling in the weight of the dark that was permeated with tiny flitting lights that darted and danced on mysterious errands among the ruins. The lights began to vanish as dark turned to grey, then silver. A small head looked out, bobbing about as if joyous at the sight of the glimmer of amber along the horizon. A beak opened, body and wings were fluffed to rid of stiffness. It froze as a faint whine, doubling and tripling, began to get louder and louder. Panicked, it burst from its shelter, iridescence wings shimmering in amber as it sped as far away as possible from the noise.

It was lucky for just as it vacated its home, a series of explosions thundered, sending a blanket of thick smoke into the air. As a light breeze attempted to dissipate it, another wave of explosions resounded, adding more fumes. Barely had the sound receeded, a spread of dark predatory metal came into view, running over the ground at speed.

"Coming up on target," the copilot murmured, "in three."

"Reducing speed," said the Asari pilot whereupon her companion tabbed a key on the console before her.

In the cramp compartment behind, the ramp opened with a whoosh as cool air rushed in. The waiting group shifted, eyes half on their omni-tools and the ground speeding by below. A light briefly flashed as the gunship slowed. The nearest soldier to the ramp let herself dropped. Using her biotics, she floated to the ground safely before she unclipped the rifle from her back. Taking a quick glance at her surroundings, she darted to the nearest cover as the rest of her squad deployed. All over the broken landscape, Asari soldiers descended from the gliding gunships and took up positions.

So far, so good. For a training run. From the window of a house that was still standing, Shepard studied the ruins around her even as she listened to the tiny voices over the comlink as each squad updated their status. The training ground was a small town on the outskirts of the city. Due to the proximity, the town received the customary Reaper attentions that left half the buildings in rubble and the other half cantankerously standing or leaning drunkenly. Despite the destruction, she could see the underlying beauty of the town in the layout where streams and fountains would have flowed, winding alongside local flora that would have been encouraged to form natural intricate designs. Much like what she had seen in the city that was slowly regaining the splendor of what used to be. It was a pity she had not the chance to see a unsullied town but if she wanted to, she could. However, that would mean taking the time to travel to one of the far flung pockets of remote areas not touched by the Reapers.

"All squads are in," said Sanar, standing beside her. "Nyrine is advancing."

"All right, let's get the ball rolling," Shepard hit a key on her omni-tool.

At predetermined points, small planted explosives went off, sending the advancing squads ducking for cover as debris flew. In the midst of this, a few Asari commandos opening up from their entrenched positions and the rest went hunting. Shepard watched the attacking squads halt beneath the hail of fire. For a long moment, they did not move except to return sporatic fire and she had to quell the urge to hit her comlink to roar at the nearest group because they were revealing their positions. The unit was afterall, not hers to command. She was there merely to observe how they put her recommendations to practical use. As if sensing her impatience, the Asari soldier at the tail end of the nearby squad cast a look back up in their direction before looking all around her, as if searching for a better spot than where she currently was.

_Come on, Nyrine, are you having cold feet? Your kids are getting antsy and you're going to get roll over if you don't get bucking._

She tapped into the channel the commandos were using to get an idea of their progress. As she expected, they had already pinpointed the location of the unit with their probes. If Nyrine was not going to move out her troops, she would be pinned, literally. Stifling the urge to cross her arms and tap her feet, Shepard tugged at her helmet, wishing she could wash out that metal leathery smell associated with new armor. Although the N7 armor fit her like a glove, it was only used a couple of times since her recovery from the final battle and then mothballed after she moved to Thessia. Despite the smell, old memories abound and she craved to dive into a firefight. A tap on her arm drew her attention to Sanar who had a smile and a light to her eyes, as if she knew what Shepard was thinking, but she waved towards the frontline.

The squads were finally moving. Nyrine must have been listening during her lectures. Shepard lips twitched as a couple of the squads were detached and sent on a tangent to the main group. They skirted and bumped in and out among the available covers in the ruins of a complex like a gaggle of goslings following the trail to water. Resisting the desire to clap a hand to her face, telling herself these were all very green around the gills and very young by Asari standards, Shepard kept her eye on the bobbing heads. Something darted to the straggler in the tail and the unfortunate Asari was despatched silently.

"There goes one," she murmured, impressed by the speed of the commando.

"I counted three," said Sanar, pointing to where she had spotted the take downs.

"This is going to be a very very short run," she sighed, silently cursing Nyrine's insistence that the troops were ready. "Ah, no offense intended," she added quickly.

"They will learn," amusement twinkled in Sanar's eyes before it faded. "If they are given the time. I'm thinking Nyrine will not oppose to your taking a squad or two to train, given how fast the enemy are removing her troops," she waved to where the scouting parties were retreating in disorder. "How long?" she nodded to the main body of the unit.

"They're immobile, bunched up and clueless, that's the worst of it," Shepard leaned against the window, crossing her arms as she gazed at the group, "it will be a wipe without the opposition suffering a single casualty. I'd say..," she held up two fingers. "Slightly more if they were allowed the use of biotics."

"Care to bet on it, Shepard ?" Sanar grinned impishly.

_Care to bet on it, Shepard?_

"Shepard?" Sanar peered curiously at her when she remained silent, staring at her as if in shock.

"Drinks at the bar." The reply popped out automatically before she could gather her scattered wits.

"You're on, captain. Loser gets to pay of course...," Sanar trailed off at the wild look Shepard threw at her. Before she could try to probe for the answer behind such a strange reaction, the sound of gunfire drew their attention back to what was happening to Nyrine's unit. As predicted, the commandos had precisely pinpointed the group's location and was currently going for the kill, directing a hail of fire that the beleaguered unit could not respond to. A few tried to find better cover but were taken out by snipers when they dashed out.

"Well, Shepard, drinks are definitely on me," murmured Sanar as she looked wide eyed at the massacre. To which Shepard made no reply, regretting the answer she had supplied unthinkingly, as she watched the commandos saturate the area thoroughly. Not a single sight of them could she see from her vantage point.

"Time to pick up the pieces." Turning away from the window, she hit a key on her omni-tool, sending a signal to all participants that the exercise was over as she picked her way through the debris back to the stairs she had ascended earlier.

"Nyrine would love that," Sanar said dryly, visualising her senior colleague's reaction to her failure as she followed Shepard.

* * *

"I do not agree. However you put it, it's still biological warfare!"

The statement, spat out with anger, brought about a brief silence for which Liara was grateful for as she shifted minutely in her seat, casting her eyes around the R&D committee that had convened to discuss the proposal put forth by the Allied Command. A mixture of Asari and Salarians, with none older than Telienos. The other Asari were all matrons, the exceptions being Liara and a couple of others, recalled or volunteers from surviving Asari outposts and colonies; Agessia, Cyone, Lusia and even Phoros. The Salarians, from Sur'kesh, had offered their services. Given the loses they had sustained among their own researchers, their expertise were heartily welcomed though Liara suspected their secondary purpose was information gathering on the current developments in the Asari's own R&D. That was just very Salarian, she could not see them changing ingrained doctrine carried out for more than two thousand years for any reason. It was why she was sitting among them rather than relegated to scurrying around in a laboratory.

"Biological warfare had been around for the past thousand years," came the bright voice of Plor, one of the Salarian researchers. "Had been and will be. To defer now only undermines our position."

"Necessary step taken, to quell galactic threat," added another, Kedar, whose speech mannerisms reminded Liara of the late Mordin Solus.

"The Asari," grated the dissenter, Jieull, furiously, "are not a galactic threat."

"Irrelevant. TI menace must be eradicated," insisted Kedar. "Else progress not possible for all races."

"That is a subject not slated for this conference," cut in Telienos before Jieull could answer. "The topic," she glanced around the group, "if I may so remind everyone, is if there is a method of accelerating the atrophy."

The mild rebuke was more than enough to shut down Jieull's vitriolics for she sat back in her seat, visibly seething. While deploring the older Asari's manner of argument, Liara could empathise with her abhorrence to waging a dirty war against their own. It was the worse act to carry out considering they were already killing their own people through conventional means. If she were given a choice to kill Benezia outright or poison her to a slow death, she rather shoot her own mother to spare her the pain. It was what their own military were doing and it was what she was trying to bring to a halt. Without success. Shepard had been right to say the TI could not be saved but she had refused to just accede that the lost were to be put down arbitrarily, in spite of what they had encountered in their fight against the Reapers. In spite of what she had gone through with Benezia. If she could spare her people of that pain, she would give it her all.

"Certain chemical compounds are known to act adversely on neurons but effect is subject to individual species," said Plor, blinking rapidly.

"Too general an application," objected Peliar who had said nothing in the heated exchanges that had taken most of the morning between Jieull and the Salarians. "We'll end up hitting innocents."

"There are no innocents," Plor shook his head, "once taken and exposed, they are lost."

"That is not true," began Liara, amazed that the Salarian casually painted in black, anyone who had the misfortune to come into contact with anything remotely connected to the Reapers. "It takes time to..."

"Yes, it takes time for indoctrination to set in so stop trying to kill us off!" barked Jieull.

"I was trying to...," Plor cocked his head at the angry Asari.

"Enough," Telienos said softly but with a warning tone that stilled everyone. "Whatever we proposed, the application must only target the affected. Liara?"

"I've already gone through as much of the surviving Prothean records we have and those provided by our allies, there is no further information I can find," Liara said. "The earlier attempts were abandoned once it became clear that mass relays were inoperative, leaving most systems cut off from one another. Research was redirected to amplifying military defence and offence."

"So there is nothing we can do," Jieull did not try to hide the satisfaction she felt.

"Should take a look again at scanner algorithms," announced Kedar.

"We already tried that," Jieull said impatiently, her rage forgotten now that it was not possible to proceed with the proposal.

"Never hurt to try again, from a different angle," Kedar did not notice the glare directed at him, eyes contemplative.

"If you find something, let me know by this same hour tomorrow, Kedar," Telienos put in before another round of angry exchanges could take place, "this meeting is concluded. That is all," she said in dismissal before beckoning to a surprised Liara.

Making her way to Telienos, Liara watched the others leave the room, noting that the Asari gathered to one spot, murmuring softly among themselves as the Salarians walked out the door. It was only after they left did the Asari exited. Definitely not a good sign and she wondered if they would be able to work amicably in the days to come.

"Yes, Telienos?" Liara frowned when the matriach held up her hand, waiting until the door had closed behind the last Asari before pointing to the chair right next to hers.

"I want you to work more closely with the Salarians," she waved the younger Asari to silence when she opened her mouth. "You are aware not all of us are of one mind when it comes to dealing with the TI but the general consensus is that they have to be removed once all attempts to save them fail. We have come to the point where we must conceed defeat," she sighed.

"I...have come to that same conclusion," admitted Liara heavily.

"Have you?" Telienos smiled with a touch of surprise and pride. "This is a pain shared by most of us but there are those who do not wish to be touched by it."

"They will not accept the Assembly's decision," Liara knew immediately what the matriach was referring to.

"No, they don't."


	14. Chapter 14

Nothing could be heard in the office, saved for the barely audible strains of music, which Liara recognised as one of Sharblu's, playing in the background. Touching a few keys at her desk, Telienos changed the setting of the window, allowing the rays of the sun to flow in more easily. Liara waited patiently, the distraction palpable in the older Asari as she strolled to the window. Formally from Hyetiana, where she had been heading one of the many educational institutions on the cold planet, she had been fortunate to be off planet when the Reapers arrived. With much of the galaxy under Reaper attack, she had gone from colony to colony before finally taking refuge with the Salarians and then opting to return to Thessia after the war.

How old was she, Liara had no idea but thought she was perhaps the same age as Benezia, judging from the fading of her facial markings and the faint lines around her eyes. More of a recluse than a political mover, she had dedicated most of her life in research and guiding students at the institutions.

"Centuries it has been, since I last walk on Thessia," said Telienos. "Of all the things here I miss most, is the sun."

"To live in a enclosed environment is not easy," Liara tried to imagine how it must have been like. In her previous forays on other planets, exploring Prothean ruins, she had spent days and days underground without a peep of the sun but even so, she was able to leave at will to breathe freely and enjoy the natural environment of the world she happened to be on. Hyetania would have offered no such freedom with surface temperatures ranging near freezing point.

"It is an ambiguous existence but considering the richness of fellowships, to lose the indulgence of nature is insignificant," her gaze lingered on the scene of the bustling city for a moment before she turned and strolled slowly back to Liara.

"Are they...?" the question almost escaped Liara before she hastily bit back the rest and she dipped her head slightly in apology for her intrusion; she did not feel she was on that level of familiarity with Telienos to take such liberties. Their meetings had been mostly work related withTelienos quietly supportive on her progress.

"They are remembered," a shake of her head and a smile put Liara at ease as she sat down again. "It is well they are not around to witness the attrition of the people."

"It cannot be that severe." More than ever, Liara wished she had been able to reestablish the vast Shadow Broker network that had been so vitally useful during the Reaper War but casualties had been too high. Combined with her need to find an answer to the TI and coping with Shepard, she could only manage to scrape together whatever survivors there were and had set them gathering information, resources to help inject impetus into a slowly recovering galactic economy. Hence, she had no primary access to the Assembly.

"No, not yet," Telienos clasped her hands before her on the table. "Two years ago, the Assembly chose to try to find a way to deliver our afflicted people from the Reaper influence. Not all were in favor. A few of us wanted to implement extirpation immediately. Aethyta and I were among those few."

_Dad?_ Liara was not surprised. Aethyta had always been the practical sort, even if she spoke in a abrasive manner sometimes and she had not tried to hide her impatience with the Assembly in the times she came to visit her and Shepard though she never clarified what it was that riled her. Only that she would rather deal with drunkards than that lot of misoneistic blues.

"My bondmate has the same opinion," she said.

"I am not surprised. Having the closest engagement with the Reapers, Shepard would know far better than anyone the impossible task we set ourselves. So do the Alliance, the Turians, the Salarians," Telienos leaned forward. "Do you know how much progress they have made in regards to their TI?"

Frowning, Liara tried to recall if the latest reports she had from one of the surviving agents had any details on this matter. "I'm not exactly clear," she confessed.

"They have managed to eradicate at least half of the TI they have detected whereas we, only managed a quarter," a deep sigh. "Our innate disposition has cost us, in lives and rebuilding efforts. And it will cut us even deeper."

"The detractors?" Liara ventured.

"The other reason why we wanted immediate action to be taken," Telienos nodded. "The danger of the rift among ourselves increases the longer we take to remove the TI. They are doing exactly what they are programmed to do; sow misinformation and discord."

"They have been in contact with the detractors," a cold hand seized Liara's heart and her eyes widened. Why or why did she not foresee this?

"It is inevitable contact would be made, despite efforts to obstruct such attempts. Who would not try to talk to a loved one, to find out if she's the monster she's made out to be? Mother, wife, lover, friend," Telienos shook her head wearily.

"Then..," Liara blinked as she pieced together the few hints Telienos had dropped. "There have been sabotages."

"Yes, mostly small overt touches but they will move to larger mischief if we manage to develop the means to accelerate the atrophy. They may already be planning something to deal with the news that our military will be moving in major force against the TI."

Why had she heard nothing among her contacts here on Thessia? Liara wondered. Unless they were part of the detractors. In which case, were they feeding her false information? She froze. Shepard. The military had asked her to apply her knowledge to aid them in massive deployments. What if they...?

"I thought news of the military campaign is not public knowledge," she said, brutally forcing herself to sit still instead of putting in a call to Shepard. To make sure she was all right. Was she not supposed to observe a training session that morning?

"We are talking of hundreds of military soldiers," Telienos said dryly. "Whose loyalties are not suspect at the moment, only their tongues," she touched Liara's hands gently. "Shepard is safe."

"I'm sorry, I..," Liara tried to still her wrenching fingers, grateful that the older Asari empathised.

"I understand," giving Liara's hands another pat, Telienos fell silent for a moment. "I have no evidence as yet that our research here has been sabotaged but I cannot rule out the possibility."

"Do you want the Salarians to conduct another course themselves to ascertain?"

"No," Telienos shook her head. "Not at the moment. I'd prefer to see what Kedar has to report tomorrow. If it has to be conducted again, it will take place on Sur'kesh. Too, I have yet to receive any update so they might have something positive at their end."

"If they too, fail to come up with anything viable, would the Assembly consider the alternative?"

"The Geth," Telienos said flatly. "Tell me, how much of our future would you place in their hands?"

"It is only a matter of time. Whether we trust them with it or no, they have after all, the ability to get the information."

Telienos sat back, contemplative but did not deny the fact Liara had put forth. Using the Geth to map the Asari TI physiology had been bruited two years ago when news of their attempts to strengthen the Quarians' immune system became common knowledge. It was one of a few proposals to try to understand the mind-altering effects of indoctrination on a Asari but the fears that the Geth, in future, would use this knowldege against the Asari had been great so it was abandoned.

"The Assembly is at the moment, in disarray. That's putting it midly," she corrected herself. "I would not propose it unless we have no choice."

"Then I shall aid the Salarians as best I can," Liara accepted her decision for the moment.

"Be on your guard, Liara," Telienos warned gravely.

* * *

It was an unusual bar. Or perhaps unusual was the wrong definition. Instead of the usual troupe of scantily dressed Asari dancing and swaying to music, there was only the lone singer in a corner. Crooning some slow sad love song Shepard could not put a name to but fitting the sombre atmosphere of the crowd. Taking a sip from her glass as she stood at the bar, she cast her eyes around the establishment. It was somewhat low key; simple furnishings, muted lighting. The back bar boasted the usual array of glasses and bottles and again, non flashy lighting.

"Not the typical bar, is it?" murmured Sanar beside her, dressed in civilian clothes. Simple but beautifully cut tunic and skirt that reached her feet.

"I get the feeling people come here to drink, not to have fun," she took another swallow, dressed as casually in a blue shirt, jacket and pants. No way was she going to walk into a bar in her uniform so she had changed into the spare clothing she had kept at the academy.

"That's the purpose of a bar, " laughed Sanar. "Why call it a bar otherwise? The rest are just frivolities."

"But necessary," she signalled the bartender to pour her another shot.

"You can really put it away," observed Sanar, leaning against the counter top. "What are you trying to leave behind?"

"Am I?" she twirled her glass slowly on the counter top, avoiding Sanar's gaze.

"Again, that's one of the reasons people come here."

"I thought you lost a bet," she returned, not sure she liked to be grilled by someone she had only moderate knowledge of. Even if she liked her better than her stiff neck superior.

"So I did, hence," Sanar drained her glass before waving to the bartender, "I drown my sorrows," she chuckled. "So, what does it take to get you drunk?"

"A lot."

"Captain, that's a challenge I cannot resist," Sanar thumped the countertop.

"You're on."

By the time Sanar concede defeat, a neat row of bottles were lined up before Shepard, along with a large gathering that had gradually caught on to the impromptu drinking contest and the inevitable bets laid on the drinkers. If any of them recognised Shepard, none ventured to acknowledge her identity, preferring to accord her privacy out of respect. Helpfully, the bartender and a few others steered Shepard and a totally drunk Sanar out of the bar and called a cab. Assuring them she could see themselves home, Shepard managed to punch in the destination despite looking down at a dancing console and pushed a lopsided Sanar upright as best she could when she slided one way to the other when the skycar turned this way and that.

"Lousy quaffer," she muttered, finally clamping a hand on Sanar's shoulder. "That's another bet you lost."

"Shepard, are you drunk?" the voice was unexpected.

"How did you get in the car?" she slurred, blinking up at a myriad of bobbing heads.

"You are really drunk," Effia snorted, standing behind Liara. "You must have hit for home without knowing it. Who's she?" she nodded towards a comatose Sanar.

"Never mind, come on, Shepard," Liara reached in to pull her bondmate out, relieved that she was safe. "Just see her to one of the guest rooms," she said to Effia before steering Shepard away.

"She lost another bet," laughed Shepard, staggering a little as she leaned on Liara. "Erial would have been smart enough not to. Is it night already?" she tried to bring up her omni-tool as she stumbled up the stairs.

"Yes, it is. It's not far now," encouraged Liara, half using her strength and biotics to guide shepard, somewhat dismayed by her bondmate's inebriation; it used to happen in the months after they arrived on Thessia before happening with less frequency. Still, this was the first time in many months she indulged herself.

"I'm all right, just give me a few hours," a burp escaped her as Liara lowered her to the bed before removing her boots an dsocks. "Damn, Erial would have won big," she added, reaching out to thump Liara's thigh as she sat down beside her.

Erial. That was a familiar name. Frowning, Liara tried to recall where she had heard it. Ah, it was that memory Shepard had shared with her. One of the marines of her unit that had perished at Akuze. There was a flavour of closeness, now that she thought of it.

"Shepard, who is Erial?"

"Likes to bet. Always reaping in the credits because she knows I can't lose. Hell, likes to run after me, y' know."

"Run after you?"

"Sticks like glue. Thick and thin. Hell, she was so skinny, best in squirelling through the ventilation shafts."

"You mean, she was your childhood playmate," realisation dawned on Liara for she could not imagine Shepard "squirelling" through anything as an adult, much less ventilation shafts.

"Space brats stick together," chanted Shepard in a singsong voice, waving a fist. "Fist toe xplore the unknown," she coughed as sudden tears came to her eyes and her throat tightened.

"Shepard," Liara took her hand in concern, feeling the sorrow. The event of her friend's death was long past, why was she grieving over it now?

"I didn't bring you out, I'm sorry," Shepard said clearly, looking at her.

"What?" Liara said in confusion.

"We should have a vacation."

"Shepard...," Liara stopped when she saw her eyes had closed. Passing her hand lightly on her temple, she sensed the gentle even rhythms of sleep. Questions could wait. For now, her heart was eased that her bondmate was safe. As she moved away to change out of her clothes, a wry smile lit her lips. Vacation. Another promise she would have to hold Shepard to.


	15. Chapter 15

Dusty and dry. Working to raise some moisture in her mouth with a tongue that seemed too sluggish, she opened her eyes. To darkness. Dishearteningly unexceptional. Slowly, as her eyes adjusted, she could make out the familiar surroundings and the equally accustomed intimate weight against her. A smell drifted to her nose which wrinkled in disgust. Ouch, how is Liara able to tolerate this? Plucking at her shirt with distaste, she carefully slide out of bed and made her way to the bathroom where her alcohol stained shirt and pants were shucked into the washer. Steam clouded the bathroom in billows as she washed away the sweat and alcoholic fumes clinging to her.

Towelling herself dry, she walked back to the bed where Liara slumbered, turned on her side. Running a light finger down her bondmate's soft smooth cheek, she palmed a switch on the wall behind the bed. The display of ship models vanished, to be replaced by the nights ky of Thessia; pitch black with the millions of stars and nebulae glittering in glory across the expanse of window that ran half the length of the room. From her vantage, she could even pick out the distant lights of the city, twinkling in unison.

Two years it had been. Incredible. Unbelievable. How hard it was to shed the suspicion that she was entangled in a hallucination, that it had never really ended at all. That the cruel dreams and memories that plagued her, were the enemies' attempts to break her. How heart breaking it would be, if it was not real. If Liara was not really there with her. Lowering herself softly to Liara's side, she sat there, looking at her sleep.

_I have to embrace it. This is reality. If I don't, I lose everything. How can I bear it? I have been foolish. I should savour the time I have with her, that is the Asari way, is it not?_

As if feeling the weight of her gaze, Liara stirred before opening her eyes. The smile that lit her eyes was answered equally by Shepard's. The intensity took her breath away for it reminded her of that night onboard the Normandy, on the trip to Ilos.

"You smell better," she said teasingly, reaching to briefly pull at one end of the towel drapped around Shepard's shoulders, more to direct her eyes to something else. Goddess, am I feeling embarrassed?

"I figure you'll kick me out of bed sooner or later if I don't do something about it," Shepard chuckled, "and I do like my beauty sleep."

"How did the training go?"

"How shall I put it?" Shepard pretended to think. "You made a better recruit than the ones I see today. You know how to keep your head up, shoot straight, run when you should stay and stay when you should run."

"I'm flattered," Liara was dismayed, half amused by Shepard's exaggerated allegory. While not trained to commando standards, she did know how to handle basic weaponry when she first joined the Normandy crew. As did every Asari who chose to develop her biotics, rudimentary ability in arms was de rigueur. So should it be with the trainees. The notion of introducing a new doctrine was perhaps turning out more difficult than planned. "Is that why you drank so much tonight?"

"When it comes to recruits, all bets are off."

"It seems like Sanar does not know that rule," said Liara, unthinkingly running her fingers along Shepard's arm nearest to her.

"How else am I to find a dupe to foot the bill?" Shepard wondered if Liara knew what her touches were doing for her attention was distractingly tuned to those fingers.

"But really, are they that bad?" Liara frowned.

"They're not as bad as any Alliance recruits in boot camp. The only thing that's going to undermine them is an impatient CO who thinks reliance on outside resources is beneath her," snorted Shepard, recalling the stiff discussion held after the training session. Nyrine knew what she was up against, the odds facing the trainees but she remained as unyielding and uncooperative as when the proposal to engage Shepard as an ally consultant was announced. So obdurate was the reception that Shepard had to force herself to speak civilly instead of giving rein to her desire to boot the stubborn Asari on her ass. It was just as well matriarch Zelenia had the final word.

"As simple as that?" Liara said uneasily, hand ceasing the stroking as the conversation she had with Telienos that morning came to mind.

"You mean if the CO is part of the movement advocating that the TI are misunderstood?" Shepard nodded as she met Liara's startled gaze. "Aethyta called when she knew what I was tasked with two weeks ago. I was going to discuss it with you but she said matriarch Telienos would update on your end."

"She did, this morning."

"Why did she wait that long?"

"I think she was hoping for some positive result of our recent analyses which turned up nothing," she sighed. "As before. And don't think I don't know what you're gloating about now," she added reprovingly.

"I didn't say anything," protested Shepard even as she stamped down on the response "I told you so" that floated forth in her mind. "And I don't gloat. Ow," she pulled her arm away when Liara's fingers emitted a brief biotic flash that stung her a little. "I shouldn't have married a blue mind bending wife," she lamented, looking at her arm.

"Mind bending, am I?" growled Liara, sitting up swiftly to grasp Shepard by her shoulders and pulled her over onto the bed whereupon a playful tussle ensued, with each trying to gain ascendency over the other. Liara easily undermined Shepard's attemtps to wrestle her down with biotics. Which was hardly a fair fight in her opinion.

"All right, all right, I surrender!" Shepard blew strands of hair off her face, lying on her front as Liara pinned her down with her weight.

"Good, now stay still."

"So you could inflict more torture?" Shepard muttered as Liara shifted down to sit on her legs and arched when hands came down on the muscles of her back. Sighing, she laid back down, hugging the pillow to her as firm hands soothed away the aches. Her bondmate's fingers were positively magic.

"Do you think any of them are conflicted?" Liara said after a while, without ceasing her ministrations.

"At this point, I cannot say. Not enough affinity to go on. The trainees I talked to are just very maidenly, the commandos and huntresses are passionate, Nyrine's mired in egotism," Shepard muttered lazily, "Sanar's affable enough but reserved, matriach Zelenia's the big cheese. Too many variables to pin down anything."

"You''ll be careful, won't you?" Liara said anxiously and yelped when Shepard suddenly twisted around to grasp her by the hips and before she knew it, she was face down among the pillows.

"I can say the same for you. One of your colleagues could just as easily turn a different colour."

"Shepard...," Liara squirmed as her bondmate emulated her massages along her spine. Given how sensitive her back was, she was soon struggling to control her responses to those hands. "Unfair," she blurted the first thing that came to her mind.

"Unfair, how so?" Shepard's breath tickled her crest. "Is it wrong to help my wife relax?"

It was pleasuring rather than relaxing, she knew Shepard knew that and it annoyed her somewhat for she was trying to discuss a serious matter. Admittedly, the bedroom was not the ideal place but since the subject came up, she saw no reason to let the opportunity slip by.

"Tell me about Erial," she said finally. Short of having another tussle with Shepard, she chose the next topic that came to mind.

Her hands froze. "Erial?" Shepard echoed in surprise and sat back. "Why?"

"You were upset about her." When no answer came, she looked over her shoulder. "Shepard?" she said softly when her bondmate remained silent, staring out the window where the night sky was turning greyish.

"It's..." The words seemed to be stuck in her throat and Shepard frowned. To build the path, requires more than a pair of hands. Your bondmate's effort is equal to your own, if you would let her. Trust and faith. If you dare not, there is no going forward. You will be forever mired because fear controlled you. Weir's words bounced around her mind.

"Was she not your childhood playmate?" prodded Liara gently.

"I...," she took a deep breath, wondering at her own reluctance. "Yes, she was." It was surprisingly hard to form the words. Inwardly she fought against the inclination to close up. "We...we first met at the creche. I was ten and she was eight. Our parents were posted to the same military depot."

"And?" Liara reached out to take her hand.

"And...you know how kids are," Shepard shrugged, forcing herself to think of those times. "Rowdy and up to mischief. Fighting with the sprinkle of bullies. The minders tried their best to keep us in line but there were alot of us," she chuckled as images began to flow. "Every new comer was supposed to be introduced but she had wandered in alone while her parents were talking to the senior staff. The first thing I knew she was there was the shouting going on near the entrance. The local big boss was brow beating her over a toy she happened to pick up. She was very skinny; big eyes and bones but she was trying to stand up to the bully. So I went over to add my size to hers and the bully added more to his."

"What happened next?"

"Bedlam," Shepard laughed, recalling how she cracked a datapad over the boy's head. "The minders were furious. We were a utter disgrace to our parents, to the Alliance," she mimicked the pompous tone of the senior staff. "We didn't much care, we had our fun. Erial sort of became my shadow after that. We used to sneak away to explore parts of the base. Being smaller, she was always the first to explore the unknown."

"Fist, toe, explore?" Liara quipped, fascinated by Shepard's account. How different it was from her own childhood.

"That's what she said," the words flowed more easily now. "She thought the fist should be the first to taste the unknown, the better to knock down the bogeyman, then the toe, the better to kick. We would be the first brave humans in the Alliance to step forth and face down evil monsters. Well, until she ran into a nest of bugs and developed a phobia about them. Our parents were not too pleased, the reports they were getting were not very ... encouraging. Dad tried but he was a by-the-rules conformer. I was grounded numerous times and Erial often sneaked by to keep me company."

"How long were you together?"

"Two years. Dad died and mom came to take me away," a sigh escaped her. "We cried when we realised we had to part. Imagine that."

"You had a bond with her, is it so surprising?" Liara turned her hand over, absently tracing the lines. "When did you meet again?"

"We kept in contact. She knew I enlisted and did the same a couple of years later. As luck would have it, she was assigned to the same unit I was in. We just picked up right where we left off though we were older and she got herself hitched."

It all sounded rather normal to Liara. Why then, was Shepard still grieving?

"Shepard, did you not..come to terms with her passing?" she said hesitantly.

"I did...I," Shepard drew up her legs and ran her hands through her hair agitatedly. "They ran me through the psych evaluations after Akuze and said I was fine, that I dealt with it...I don't know!"

"Shepard...," Liara grabbed hold of her wrenching hands. "Shepard...link with me." It was not the wisest thing to do. No Asari would attempt a meld if the other party was not mentally prepared or not in the right frame of mind. The cost in breaking through barriers that would be more than doubled was enough to daunt any such attempt, much less the impact of a stressed mind that could overwhelm an Asari. But this was Shepard, her bondmate and Liara would try anything to understand her pain.

"Trust me," she whispered, when Shepard said nothing, reaching to grasp her face before kissing her.

There was resistance even though Shepard's surface thoughts was readily opened to her. She did not try to push but instead, explore the most recent memories, aware that Shepard was doing the same with hers, "living" through the events of days past in each other's lives. The difference was that her own memories were infused with emotions whereas Shepard's was more like flipping through a vid, she could not touch the heart of her. She reached for the barrier, feeling her bondmate's withdrawal.

_Don't you trust me?_

_I do. I do trust you but ... I'm afraid._

_What do you fear?_

_{quiver} Are you here? Really here?_

_I am. I am always here, with you. Just as you are with me._

_I'm afraid._

_Show me your fear._

_{anguish} I should have died with them. I failed. [Erial grinning, young girl, woman, the shuttle console loomed largely, bitter cold eating away within] They were my friends. Why am I alive {anger / fear} What am I? [face in the mirror, cybernetic implants gleaming through half healed scars] Am I real? Am I alive? WHAT AM I? WHO AM I?{fear / defiance} What have they done to me? [Object Rho, medtable, frightened doctor, Kenson, Harbinger] {fear / doubt} Am I me? [Medbay, Chakwas : Everything checks out fine, Commander]{agony} Even if I'm the last one, I've to try, I can't fail them [explosions, screams, red beams, husks, banshees, brutes, marines falling, never to rise again, corpses, blood, console, wailing and thunder of the Reapers]{bitter cold} Why do I live when the rest are dead? Am I alive? This is a dream. [Ashley, Mordin, Thane, Legion, Jack, Jacob, Anderson] {disbelief}_

_This is not a dream._

_I failed them._

_No, you did not. You can't save everyone._

_Will I wake up now to find you gone? That you are not real? {despairing cry} That they have their way with me after all._

_I am real. Trust me. Trust yourself. Embrace the truth and believe you are alive. You are Shepard. You are never one to hide. You have never let yourself down, even when you feel discouraged. You have always been there. For me. For everyone. We trust you. We love you. I love you. I love you._

"I love you," Liara repeated, feeling the tears on Shepard's face as she broke the meld. "I love you," she reinforced and injected as much of her feelings into her voice as in the light link she maintained, clutching her bondmate to her as she cried even as she blinked her own tears away. So much suppressed turmoil. Was it any wonder her emotions and behaviour were so erratic?Liara could not fathom how Shepard managed to carry on as she did. The one thing she could attribute it to was her bondmate's iron will. It was a relief to her that she now knew what was plaguing Shepard. It would be easier for them to overcome her fear together.

"Have I been foolish?" said Shepard tearily, wiping her face with the towel after what seemed like a long bout of weeping. "I can't...I can't believe I just...," she trailed off awkwardly, somewhat unable to accept that she had broken down as she had. She could not remember when was the last time she had ever cried.

"Shepard, even the strongest metal can crack," Liara was pleased to find that Shepard's mind had steadied and for the first time in two years, crystal clear and opened to her. "I'm not immune either."

"I saw," Shepard turned over the memories they had shared, "but that's not why you went to Weia. I'm sorry."

"Silly." Liara admonished gently.

"I don't suppose we can take a day off," Shepard said after a while, feeling calmer and turned to look at the thin line of amber along the horizon through the window. Did we take the better part of the night? "I think..," she began when Liara kissed her. "Do you..?"

_Be quiet._

Words died away when Liara let herself fall back down on the bed, pulling Shepard down over her, hands smoothed over her shoulders, back, her sides before cupping her breasts and sliding down her flat stomach. Aroused, she paid homage to her lover's body; trailing gentle nips and kisses all over, hands carassing, glorifying in the feel of her responses as she writhed against her, the soft sounds of her rapture, flashes of pain barely felt as Liara's fingernails dug into her back, increased the pace of their ardor. Automatically, they merged as their heartbeats pick up speed and each touch was doubled the pleasure.

_Shepard._

_Yes?_

_Remember the garden?_

_Yes... Yes, I do!_

Liara reached and shock riveted them both as a strong field of biotics flared. Shepard felt as if every nerve of her entire body was set on fire, head to toe. Every nerve's sensitivity seemed magnified threefold. Her bondmate's response rebounded on her, amplified again and she shuddered uncontrollably when she felt her lover's touch intimately at the very core of her, almost unbearable. Nevertheless, she responded, struggling not to collapse completely on Liara as her arms strained to prop herself up before she bent to nip her lover's sensitive neck. Each stroke sent a wave of exquisite ecstasy running through them, building to a frisson of fenzied exultation even as their minds interweaved more closely than ever, memories, past and present, feelings, self, all fusing into a wave that sent them spiralling. A ray of bright sunlight, heralding a new day, swept into Shepard's eyes before she slumped on Liara, not moving for a long time till the sun was past the horizon.

_What the hell was that?_

A giggle bubbled up from Liara at the shocked amazement from Shepard and she coughed. Her throat felt dry and strained. As if she had been screaming at the top of her voice. She knew Shepard was suffering the same effect, she could feel it.

_You can call it the apex of Joining._

_Really? I feel ... good but drained. What did you take?_

_Every little thing that I love about you._

_I wish...I could..._

_I know._

_You're tired. Sleep. I love you._

_I love you too._


	16. Chapter 16

The laboratory was quiet, despite the presence of several Salarian technicians at their consoles. Fully engrossed in their work, they had little to spare in irrelevant conversations and most to invest in research discussions. The general preference was to work undisturbed in their drive to finish every individual goal they had set themselves. Time was of essence and commanded every aspect of their short lives. Hence, an hour or so of sleep after the meeting was sufficient for Kedar before he continued in his project, carrying on through the night till the next morning. As did his Salarian cohorts. A soft beep from his omni-tool alerted him of his appointment. Quietly, he transferred the most recent data from his console to his omni-tool before shutting it down and proceed with briskness to his appointment, his mind bustling with various cogitations as he walked down the corridors.

Efficiency. Celerity. Competency. Perception. Four simple principles that dictate Kedar's approach to every problem that appeared on the horizon. Guided him to fulfilling achievements and advancement in his chosen profession. There was nothing he felt he could not overcome, no solution he could not find. That was before the advent of the Reapers and the prodigious catastrophe they presented with their intentions that had loomed across the galaxy. Never before had he felt so lacking, so inadequate as every effort to find some means of defense against the ancient enemies drew a blank. Desperate were those two years, even as the Crucible was put together, to find any means to slow the Reaper advance. Whatever could be used, were used. Even if it were implausible, it was tried. They had nothing to lose. In the end, it came down to numbers, brute force, military strategies and all out cooperative efforts in a desperate press to finally vanquish the giant synthetic abominations.

A pity the same could not be said of the more lively thralls the Reapers had left behind. Too sentient, too intelligent, warped as they were. Although the allied powers were reluctant to begin another conflict, the menace they represented became quickly apparent in the weeks that followed the demise of their masters. Skirmishes had erupted at allied homeworlds and colonies, both in space and on planet, sabotages at military depots and supply routes. The initial reluctance to engage them with any force were quickly replaced by determination to avoid another protracted conflict. The cost in lives during the Reaper War was a staggering estimated sixty percent of galactic population. Confronted by the grim prospect of more decimations, the allied powers had moved to stamp down on the TI.

Humans, Turians, Salarians and every other race were pushing with every effort to eradicate the menace at their backdoor. The same could not be said of the Asari however. The Asari were the most egalitarian of the Council races, their philosophical approach to any contingency, infamous. To Kedar, it was this ingrained mindset that was proving to be the most aggravating stumbling block to the Salarian's research. It mattered not to him that there was not a single internal armed conflict in their long history. The past was the past, history was only meant to showcase progress and pitfalls in the endless journey of evolution. What was the most important was the present. Securing galactic peace and stability was vital and should take precedence over all else but the Asari apparently did not hold the same views. Such stubborn resistance to do what was necessary was incomprehensible.

"Salarian."

Preoccupied, he did not notice that someone approaching from the opposite direction had stopped to speak to him. Until he bounced off a biotic field that flashed before him. As fast as it had appeared, it vanished once he was halted.

"Salarian," a hiss.

"Speak later?" he said after he had gathered hs wits, not inclined to speak to Jieull once he recognised who it was who had thrown up the field. "Important meeting I'm going to."

"No doubt. Salarian," Jieull said softly. So intense was the acrimony in her eyes that Kedar wondered if she would release the pent up rage out there in the corridor, in front of witnesses. "Did you find anything new?"

"That is something I would discuss with the Director," he said evenly, waiting for Jieull to state her actual intent. Friendly discourse she was definitely not making, of that he was certain.

"Let me make a suggestion. Discuss appropriately, Salarian," Jieull said with a smile that Kedar knew was not intended for him. "Lest you find yourself disaffiliated."

"Clear are my intentions," Kedar said, eyelids half drawn up with displeasure.

"Muddy them, Salarian," Jieull turned away and strolled swiftly down the corridor.

Without bothering to watch her go, Kedar resumed his interrupted journey, his pace quickening in reflection to his bolstered determination that he was almost marching. So unusual was his gait that when he stomped into her office unannounced, Teleinos wondered what was it that was twisting the horns of the unflappable Salarian, although she could hazard a guess or two.

"Possibilities, possibilities!" fingers wavering in the air, Kedar paced back and forth before Telienos, completely forgetting to greet her. "If initial attempt was an error, result inconclusive. Second error, supportive subjective, differentiating viables. Third to tenth error, indicative of conscious mischief. Insupportable. Missing! Missing! Prothean data holds progressing values, should find. Key to recognizing dissociate axons..."

"Kedar...," Telienos interjected patiently, cutting into his soliloquy, her tone bringing the Salarian to a halt. "Please, take a seat," she nodded to the chair before her desk.

"Apologies, Director," Kedar said faintly as he sat down, realizing his encounter with Jieull had fueled his indignation. "Intent not to be discourteous," he said, upset that he had diminished himself before Telienos for whom he had come to respect. She was, in his opinion, one of the few pragmatic Asari he had come to know.

"Intent to resolve complications, apology accepted," Telienos hid a smile when Kedar's almost screwed up eyes snapped open. "The research is sabotaged?"

"Comprehensively ascertained," he nodded, rising from his chair to take out a finger size datapod from the arm pocket of his labcoat and placing it before her. Restraining himself from pointing out that the saboteurs could only be Asari. There was nothing he could detect in Telienos that she was upset at the betrayal, only acceptance. His esteem of her rose; she had not questioned the validity of his conclusions. She said nothing as she glanced at her console, ignoring the datapod for the moment, intending to look into it later.

"The report from Sur'Kesh is positive. Caution is advised as it is not infallible," she said, transferring the data over to him. "You are suggesting another examination of Prothean records."

"Plausible sources should be investigated. Dr T'Soni's expertise would be appreciated."

"You trust her judgement?" Telienos wondered he would trust an Asari after the perpetual confrontations he had with Jieull ever since he arrived on Thessia.

"Young she is but objective despite exception in sentiments," he said musingly. "Correlate data with other experts but expectations she is exacting."

"That is high praise."

"Truth."

"As it is, she sent a message that she is unable to come in today...," began Telienos.

"Cannot wait," Kedar interrupted, dismayed. "Situation worsening,"

"I was about to suggest that you could visit her briefly."

"Sick?" Kedar questioned, hearing the emphasis.

"In a manner of speaking," Telienos did not bother to explain when Kedar's eyes crinkled up slightly, doubting he had the slightest interest in bonding customs. For a moment, she was inclined to tell Kedar to wait a day but on second consideration, decided to send him on. Liara would know to expedite. "I'll inform her you're dropping by."

* * *

Tired as she was, Shepard dozed lightly, drifting in and out to check that Liara was resting comfortably. Curled against her bondmate's back, she pressed her face closer to her neck, breathing in her scent even as her hands gently carassed the slumbering body. There was the need to assure herself that Liara was there, it was no dream. Plainly, she would not be completely rid of her fears yet but she felt more secured now than she was before. Her hand paused over Liara's belly._ Did we really make a baby?_ It was silly, she knew, to want some evidence. Which would not be forthcoming in how many months? How long would it take for an Asari to gestate before giving birth? _Damn it Shepard, you really are the ignoramus Effia said you are. You should start reading up on how to take care of expectant Asari mothers and babies._ Another thought struck her. There was no way she would accept Admiral Hackett's offer to reinstate her as CO of the Normandy after her tenure as Allied consultant. Granted, he had only hinted the possibility, not explicitly stated it. However, she knew she would not be able to tear herself from Liara's side or the baby.

_I'd rather fly a desk._ A soft tap at the door caught her attention. Probably Effia, coming to check why the both of them were not up and downstairs for breakfast. Or was it time for lunch? She glanced at the window to see the sun near zenith. Strange, would not the housekeeper check on them earlier? Damn, how was she to get herself to the door? Her limbs felt enervated. Before she could decide what she ought to do, the door opened to reveal Effia, bearing a tray with two glasses in one hand. Closing the door behind her, she approached the bed.

"Normally, I would not disturb the two of you," she said, placing the tray on the bedside table. "But you have a visitor coming in soon."

"Visitor?" Shepard rasped and felt her throat, grimacing in discomfort.

"Drink. I'll talk," Effia shoved one of the glasses at her which she had to take in both hands.

"How am...," began Shepard, feeling that she could not move at all but Effia motioned at her with her arm, using her biotics to lift her to sit upright against the pillow. "What is...," she frowned at the liquid in the glass, the colour of avocado.

"It's Aciavo, a homemade brew. Just the kind of energy drink to have after a good workout. Drink!" Effia said firmly when Shepard only stared at her. "Someone from R&D is coming by for a urgent conference with Liara."

"Why didn't he call her?' Shepard said lowly, taking a cautious sip. Whiskey? "Is this alcoholic?" she demanded incredulously, lifting the glass, finding it hard that Effia would pour her a beverage from Earth when she had been adamant on assimilating her into Asari culture.

"No. What does it taste like?" Effia said curiously.

"Whisky, Earth liquor," she took another mouthful, liking the taste.

"Glad you like it. It's all fresh greens if you want to know, nothing fermented. Back to your question. Director Telienos wants to keep his visit quiet. Don't ask me," throwing up her hands, Effia shook her head in anticipation of Shepard's next question. "I'm only the messenger. So, he'll be here soon. You've better get her up and drink her dose," she nodded to the oblivious Liara and moved back to the door.

"How do you know...," Shepard held up the glass, surprised to feel strength returning to her limbs.

"I heard the both of you. Moaning loud enough to bring the house down," she vanished through the door before a red faced Shepard could think of anything to say.

Toes curling in embarrassment, she wondered if any of the household assistants had also heard them. _She's having me on, no way she could have heard us unless she had her head plastered to that door. Still, how would she know we need it?_ Feeling the tingle on her lips, she examined the remaining Aciavo. Fresh greens? Somehow she doubted it. Returning her glass to the tray after draining the remnants, she gently shook Liara by her shouler. It took a few minutes and patient prodding before she could get any response.

_Wake up, love. One of your colleagues is coming by to see you._

_Who?_

_No idea._

_Seeing that Liara was unable to gather any energy to turn over, Shepard pulled her up to sit against her, bringing the other glass of Aciavo to her lips._

_Effia was here._

_Uh yeah... {discomfort}_

_Why are you feeling...ahhh. {chuckle} She wasn't at our door. I sent her a message earlier, to have her informed the others I won't be coming in today._

_You can do that?_

Feeling strength flooding in, Liara took the glass but remained ensconced in her bondmate's arms, not inclined to move.

_It's customary for bonding couples to remain secluded for a day or two after intense Joining. The better for the new bonding to settle._

_Hmm. And time to recuperate?_

_Um hmm._

Shepard cocked her head, inwardly examining the mental link which seemed augmented to a different level. She could follow Liara's train of thought easily which at the moment; a plain and simple enjoyment of the Aciavo, warmth and comfort at being held and joy with their new rapport.

_How strong is this link?_

_It differs with every couple but touching as we are now, we are clear as water to each other. Distance would weaken it._

_I would ... "hear" you less the farther I'm away?_

_We will feel the elements of each other's feelings but for clarity, we have to touch. At least, that's what I'm told._

_I guess we'll find out together._

She nuzzled Liara's neck and grinned when she felt the shiver of delight that ran through her.

_Shepard.. not now. {reluctant protest} Whoever's coming would not appreciate being kept waiting while we're... {gasp} preoocupied._

_Oh all right._

Removing the empty glass from Liara's hand and putting it back on the tray, Shepard slide out of bed and bent to scoop her bondmate up in her arms.

_A shower is in order, ma'am._

_I'd expect the best of behaviour from you {mock admonishment} ... Shepard!_

Watching the pacing Salarian in the hall, his agitation plain and obvious, Effia wondered if he intended to bore a hole in the ground. Perhaps throwing him into one of the running streams would cool down whatever was heating up his buns. Whatever buns Salarians had on them. Such a hustling and bustling lot, eager to amass and attain as much of their experiences and objectives as fast as possible in their short lives. Being around them always made her feel harried. Like this one churning up more and more froth in his wake. She wished she could attach him to one of those ancestral mills depicted in the ancient temples. At least he would be doing something practical.

"Confirmed, Dr T'Soni knows of my presence?" he enquired, for the umpteenth time, pausing only long enough to face her politely.

"She's right behind you," Effia said dryly before making herself scarce.

"Ah, Dr T'Soni, apologies for disturbance but required your expertise," Kedar turned around immediately to face Liara as she walked up with Shepard.

"Your presence is always welcome, Dr Olor." Having seen Kedar's discomposure from the top of the stairs, Liara had an idea of the intent of his visit. "This is..." she turned to Shepard, dressed casually in shirt and pants.

"Shepard. Captain. One of vital keys to victory over the Reapers," interrupted Kedar, eagerly thrusting out his hand for the human to shake. "Kedar Olar. Always wanted to meet."

"Truth in itself. I did not win the war alone," Shepard smiled, liking the Salarian's honesty.

"Yes, yes," Kedar nodded in agreement. "Cooperative effort major element. As in then and now, ever."

"What do you need, Kedar?" said Liara.

"Implications. Results meddled with. Plausible to implement viral component but required Prothean data to refine projected targets. Otherwise...," Kedar shook his head.

"You're saying you need to make more precision adjustments such that the intended targets are the TI," Shepard said, stroking Liara's back soothingly when she felt her dismay on hearing Kedar's revelations of betrayal and the confirmation it was possible to create a viable chemical compound.

_Oh Shepard!_

_I know, love. I'm sorry it has come to this._

"Correct," Kedar was pleased the human understood him. Always levelheaded, humans were, he felt. Especially Shepard, who had avocated that the TI should be dealt with as soon as possible in a interview two years ago.

"I have searched through surviving Prothean archives," Liara took a deep breath. It was no use denying the cause of saving the TI was hopeless. Time to turn her energies to securing the future for her people and herself. A warm feeling of encouragement flowed through the link as Shepard felt her resolve. "There is no research data that could possibly help you."

"One moment," Shepard touched her arm, having an idea as she flicked through her bondmate's memories on the Prothean acrhives she had conducted searches in. "There's one other archive you have yet to look." Liara's eyes widened at the image Shepard sent her.

_Is it possible?_

_It's still in existence. The Reapers never got to it. Their priority was us._

"Where is this archive?" Kedar asked excitedly, looking at one to the other.

"Ilos."


	17. Chapter 17

**Hades Nexus, Hekate System, Three hours out from Asteria**

The faint warblings of a tenor carried through the air, an odd rousing ode intermingled with the hum of engines. Despite muffled by distance and bulkheads, the lyrics of the song were familiar and he hummed abtractedly along with it, his eyes rolling easily over the displays. A flick of his fingers brought up the sensor readings and another reduced it to a sidetab when his vision clouded. The rumblings from his stomach and a burning sensation made him wince. Damn it, skipping breakfast was a bad idea. Now he was paying for it twice over with a burning hole in his guts and drumbeats in his head. Jabbing a button on the arm of his chair, he leaned back, trying to ease the double whammies.

"Hey Pub, get me some chow, getting the pits here."

"Yeah, what'd be?" a low voice rasped.

"Shit, whatever you've got back there. I ain't choosy."

"Whatever you say, Nucks. Be a minute," Pub drawled lazily.

Typical. "I don't have a minute," he put his mouth nearer the pickup. "I can smell gyros from here so roll one over."

"So go order at a pitstop. Never no gyros where I am, you think I'm a takeout?"

"Shit, I'm dying over here. Dyyyyynnnnnnnng," he groaned emphatically, snapping his teeth for good measure.

"Some people would love to see that."

"They can get in line, get me that...," he stopped when someone coughed behind him and turned to see a widely grinning Kid, holding out a large steaming mug with a pair of chopsticks sticking out over the rim. "Shit...all you can give me is noodles?" he growled into the pickup after one look into the mug.

"Knock yourself out." A faint click told him Pub had turned off the com at her end. The sound of creaking joints brought him round to see that the mug had been placed on the inbuilt foldable table of his chair, along with a filled glass. "Oh no no, not that crap again," he winced when he saw the dreaded white liquid.

"Not leaving till it's empty," Kid folded his arms, fingers plucking softly at his short beard as he tried not to look gleeful at Nuck's predicament.

"Ten credits if you...," Nuck whispered, peering behind his chair.

"Ohhh Pub! Nucks' wants to...," a hard calloused hand closed off Kid's rising shout.

"Shit, shut your yap," he grounded his teeth in exasperation, releasing the young man's mouth when he was sure he would not shout any further before snatching up the glass.

"Late nights and drinks are number one silent killers for pilots," Kid intoned pontifically as the older man drained the contents without seeming to swallow. "So is riling the cargomaster. That's what they always say."

"When I need a hen, I'll get a shrink," Nuck shoved the empty glass at Kid. "Now git!" he glared as a grinning Kid blew him a kiss before exiting from the cockpit. Picking up the mug, he stirred it hopefully with the chopsticks as he searched the depths. Not a shred of meat came into sight, just vegetables. Was this vengence for his drinking bout last night? Damn it, what was a guy to do when old buddies turn up to treat him free drinks? Especially when he thought they were dead, fighting in the Reaper War? A shudder shoke his heavy frame as images flashed before his eyes at that thought. Shit, he did not want to think about it. Grimly, he shoved noodles into his mouth, concentrating on the taste of the food. Chicken noodles, well, that was something. A soft beep from the console drew his attention to a incoming signal.

"This is SSV Hastings, Crispin Convoy to MSV Korvin, please respond."

The Crispin Convoy? Should they not be at Argos Rho by now? SSV Hastings, that would be one of the frigates?

"This is MSV Korvin," he wondered why the frigate was not with the convoy.

"MSV Korvin, SSV Hastings en route to your position. ETA 5 minutes."

"En route?" he said in confusion.

"We are to sheepdog you to local cluster."

"Roger that." A grin split his face. Pub would not be so mad at him now for missing the convoy. "Hey!" he keyed the com and shouted into it. "Guess what, the Alliance convoy just sent a shepherd to get us to Sol."

"What?" Pub rasped.

"Shepherd?" Kid echoed.

"You heard me...," he took a deep breath, feeling his headache lifting.

"We'll be so lucky, man," Kid whooped over the com.

"Nucks, what kind of shepherd," Pub said faintly. "And how far out did they say they were?"

"A frigate, ETA 5 mins," he wondered at the anxiety in her voice.

"Shit, that ain't no...," she began to curse when muffled booms were heard.

"Pub?" he said uncertainly as he stared around the cockpit before looking at the console. There was nothing on the readouts. What was going on?

"Shit! Nucks, put out a mayday!" shouted Pub. "That's no frigate coming in..." A dull booming crack resounded from the com before vanishing abruptly. The console emitted a shrill scream as a red light flashed, indicating a hull breach in the aft cargo hold.

"What the fuck was...," Kid said stridently before he was cut off as another muffled boom was heard from his end.

Not a frigate? What was Pub talking about? His brain felt frozen as he stuggled to make sense of what was happening around him. Until he happened to glance out of the cockpit window to see a shuttle right next to the personnel access airlock behind the cockpit. The hatch was opened and suited armor figures were exiting. Raiders? Emotions and thoughts crashed into one another as he fought to decide what he should do. What had happened back there? Where did the shuttle come from? Automatically, he keyed in new coordinates and was about to enable FTL before he remembered the hull was breached. Shit. The freighter was on in-system drive, there was no way he could out run the shuttle with that kind of speed. It was doubtful there would be only the one shuttle, there would be more. He slapped on the wide distress broadcast and beacon, hoping the flotilla garrisoned at Asteria would be able to respond. Inwardly, he knew it would be too late by the time they received the signal but he tried anyway. Becoming an unknown statistic was not in his plan.

"Mayday! Mayday! This is the MSV Korvin...," he broke off when the console flashed again, indicating outer hatch opening. "Oh shit," he slapped on shipwide com. "Raiders coming in, break out the arms." Before reaching down for the shotgun under his seat, he locked the hatch to the cockpit and set new coordinates before firing the engines, redirecting the ship to head back to Asteria. How many raiders were already attached to the hull? Another beep from the console; inner hatch opened. What were they after? The cargo? People? The ship? Somehow, he doubted they would settle with just one. He got up from his chair, took the shotgun beneath the seat and faced the door.

_Well Pub, I should have listened to you._

She would be organising the rest, to set up a defense grid. Try to hold out, until help arrived. Or if they were lucky, repel the intruders. Or if they were unlucky, they die. He wished he was with the rest of the crew, not locked up in the cockpit but his duty was to defend it. The hatch to the cockpit shuddered and he raised the shotgun.

_Where will I be tomorrow? Damn this headache._

* * *

"Status."

"Boarding parties confirmed. Hull damage aft," the XO did not look up, concentrating on the flowing data. "Engines shut down."

The CIC thrummed softly, aglow with active bright haptic displays. Shadows stood still or glided across the deck. Silent but motivated individually. Arms crossed, he stared at the vid display that temporarily blanked out the galaxy map. Rock steady, he stood, except for white knuckled fingers rubbing against one another and the twitch in his jaw. Minutes went by. Time seemed to crawl. He closed his eyes, resisting the urge to pace and tried not to think of what was going on within the freighter. When the XO spoke, it was welcome relief.

"One of the shuttles is leaving. Beacon confirmed."

"Initiate Blackfish," he nodded to his XO before reducing the vid to a smaller panel so he could peruse the galaxy map. Flicking his fingers, he enlarged the display of the Hekate System. The icons of the ships glowed brightly; freighter in green, shuttles in red. One of the reds was moving away. _Show me your lair, you rats._ His eyes narrowed as it headed for Triodia. The planet or one of the fourteen moons? The red dot doved. For one of the moons. Like a shark following its prey, the frigate followed and settled in orbit around the moon.

"Launch a probe, ten klicks from target," he said, expanding the sensor readout on the screen as the red dot landed on the surface. A tiny blue dot appeared and vanished once it hit the surface of the moon. He waited.

"There's no underground terrain, sir but I'm reading a compact mass, faint radiative signatures, configurations unknown," the XO said after a few minutes.

"A ship?"

"Yes sir...measuring a kilometre long, power output holding steady."

A kilometre? A Athabasca class freighter? His gut told him otherwise. The vague sensor data from the probe was not enough. If he wanted to know exactly what was down there, there was only one thing to do.

"Active scans," he ignored the questioning sound, cut off before it could be uttered clearly, and the glance the XO threw him. The officer said nothing but activated the short range sensors.

"Confirmed DRA ... ," the waver in the XO's voice drew his gaze. "Turian dreadnought," his vocie steadied but his face turned pale.

"Condition one." A warning wail rang out, increasing the tension onboard. A subtle difference was felt as g-grav was disabled in response to the alert. "Contact Asteria Station, AUC Mike-Alpha-Delta-Echo-One-Eight-Five-Niner, SSV Ain Jalut engaging unidentified dreadnought. Update all data on operations..."

"Sir! The dreadnought is moving. Reading multiple incoming bogeys."

"Come about. Vector zero-zero-one."

* * *

The wavering glint caught her eye, twinkling merrily in the sunlight. Intigued, she reached out to examine it. It looked crystalline to her, beautifully faceted in the shape of a vague multi-point star, strung on a creamy band. Removing it from the hook it was hung on, she held it close to the booth console which threw out some information.

Cimilcir Crystal, Thessia

Forged 2190 CE First Cycle

Crafter Pyselia

Credits 200

Not exactly what she was looking for. She craned her head, trying to see over the crowd, hoping Liara had not finished her transaction. A voice drew her attention back to the booth.

"May I help you?" the Asari salesperson said helpfully.

"Yes, can you tell me what does this crystal signify?" she reined in the desire to add 'and hurry up about it'.

"Cimilcir represents the spiritual aspects of life," the Asari reached out to take the pendant and held it at an angle that allowed her to see the glimmers of blue. "Life is an endless process, like the ocean. You can see the blue aspects of the crystal; healing and purity. The crystal brings peace, serenity, beauty and calmness. It calms tired nerves, alleviating agony and pain from physical stress. It is also strengthens the connection between bondmates."

_I'm sold._ She did not say anything, trying to decide between this and another item that had caught her eye but she was more inclined towards the crystal. Maybe the Asari was telling her tall tales to garner a sale but she felt drawn to the crystal nevertheless. As she tried to make up her mind, she could vaguely feel Liara's thoughts switching. Probably making her way back to the cafe. That decided her. A few minutes later, the crystal pendant wrapped and tucked into the pocket of her pants, she threaded her way through the crowd to the cafe they had arranged to meet at. After a quick glance, she spotted Liara seated at a corner overlooking the river.

"Where did you go?" Liara looked up from the menu datapad as she sat down.

"Oh just looking around." She crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward, trying to shield the image of her purchase. One bad aspect to bonding, she decided. Trying to hide surprises from her bondmate who surely could read her easily.

"What would you like to eat?" Liara hid a smile, feeling Shepard's tiny flash of worry. Not that she "saw" what was it that Shepard had bought but she was aware of her wish to give her a little surprise. A gift. It was tempting to tell Shepard that the greatest gift she ever had to give was already hers. Had been ever since they were reunited after Shepard's return from her suicide mission. And she had kept it ever since; returning to her after the final battle of the Reaper War. There was nothing more she would ever want. But she understood her bondmate's desire nevertheless and thus did not try to pry too hard into her secret.

"Whatever you want. I'm not picky. I trust you." Shepard did not bother to pick up the menu datapad before her.

"If you're sure," Liara sent her bondmate a wicked grin before punching in their orders.

"As sure as the deep ocean." Reaching out, she clasped Liara's hand to find she could feel her happiness and satisfaction clearly. _I'm glad we make time today._

_I'm glad you suggested it. Do you know...I don't remember stepping into the market district at all._

_Aw damn._ Guilt rose up. Shepard knew why Liara had not been able to make the time.

_It's fine, love._ Liara shook her head. It would not have been the same as it was then. Look at it. A smile lit her lips as she took in the sight; tall spiralling buildings rising once more into the sky, long bridges arching gracefully across the river, decorative flags flapped gaily from the crossbars, skycars gliding past, the smell of flora; twining and blooming, the bustle and sounds of people going about their business. Most especially encouraging was the sight of children skipping about with their parents.

_We will have to put aside more time to go out._ Shepard's eyes lingered on a small Asari child holding on to her mother's hand as they walked past the cafe. Her mind automatically replacing it with another image. It vanished when the waitress arrived with their order. A beep from her omni-tool distracted her and she read the message as the meal was set out.

"Well, my replacement has arrived. I hope he would have a better time than I have with Nyrine... is that..." Her eyes widened in amazement when she looked at her plate. Summer spaghetti.

"Don't tell Effia. She'll kill me," a chuckle escaped Liara as she picked up her fork.

"Damn, do you know how long I have not eaten this?" Picking up her own fork, Shepard speared some of the pasta and brought it before her eyes.

"I know. I don't know how you put up with Effia for so long."

"She has your best interests at heart. As do I. But you know that already, don't you. Heart of mine."

Heads turned briefly to the couple sitting in the corner of the cafe; a subtle empathy underlying the amusement at the sight of a pair obviously in love. Striking a cord within their essences that resonated in unison to the indisputable faith in their future.


	18. Chapter 18

Barriers and more barriers. Security was so tight that it was a wonder anyone would even dare to put a toe out of line. Anyone sane, she corrected herself as she pulled at the strap of her duffel impatiently, waiting for her turn to pass security scans. The sixth if she remembered correctly as she glanced around. Scanners, patrol drones, security guards seemed to outnumber the crowd at the spaceport. A fallacy to the eye since the design of so many checkpoints was to streamline people into manageable proportions. Layers and layers of filters to buffer against any infiltration or attacks from the TI. A far cry from the perfunctory customs prevalent before the Reaper War where a wink and a nod might get you past the red tape. Bailey would have hated post-RW security procedures. Yeah, how he would gripe, she thought as the beams from the scanner ran over her and moved past when the light remained green to join Liara, who was waiting for her beyond the check point.

Clutching her own duffel, Liara fell easily into step with her, the tails of her armor suit wavering stiffly in the slight breeze she raised. Putting it on again after not having worn it since their arrival on Thessia, it felt comfortable, enlivening and yet raised prickles of apprehension. For a moment, she had wanted to leave her armor behind, civilian clothing would more than suffice. With Ilos isolated and abandoned, what danger could there possibly be? It was not as if they were chasing another rogue fugitive Spectre backed by hordes of Heretics. But then, prudence asserted itself. Better safe than sorry, Shepard had quipped. An arm reached out to twine with hers and she turned her head to smile as Shepard interlaced their fingers.

_Not worried are you?_

_I'm not sure what we would find when we get there._

_Preferably deserted with the natives engaged in their favourite past time._

_Shepard_. Liara frowned disapprovingly but a chuckle escaped her nevertheless when Shepard flashed her an image of snoring Protheans with beetles and bugs, arrayed in colourful costumes and drinking cocktails, doing a dance around them. _That's not very appropriate_. She sent back an image of the silent cryogenic pods they had found on Ilos.

_I know but I just couldn't help thinking of Javik whenever the subject of Protheans comes up._ Another image of a Prothean, which Liara recognised as Javik, lounging on a gilt-covered throne encrusted with seashells, numerous attending Hanar bearing various delicatessen hovered around him, popped up. Swallowing a desire to laugh, she forced herself to frown. _You're not fooling me with that frown. Go ahead, do._

_Considering we're approaching the Alliance entry port, should I really make a laughing entrance?_

_You make a lovely decoy. That'll give me a chance to dump them on their asses for ogling you._

_I'm hardly that outstanding among my sisters here. You on the other hand.{A quick flash of several Asari who had been eyeing Shepard} I'm afraid I should be the one doing the dumping. Alot of it._

_Damn, I would just like to see how you handle the competition. {Dreamy sequence of Liara glowing with biotic energies, mowing down her opponents like a Valkyrie before claiming her bondmate}_

_Shepard, I would prefer to have you at my mercy in the bedroom but if you'd I rather..._

A flush began to creep up under her collar as Liara sent her images of her intentions_. If they were not where they were..._

_You're more evil than I am. Tell you what. Let's split half and half. I'll take the corporal, you settle the private. It'll be a walkover._

Before Liara could come up with a suitable rejoiner, they reached the entry port in question where two poker face marines stood guard at either side of the entrance. They snapped to attention, saluting Shepard even as the ray from the ubiquitous scanner ran over her and Liara. Releasing Liara's hand smoothly to return their salute, Shepard strode through to see more marines stationed behind. If there had been any trouble at the entrance, armed response would be immediate. Short of a torpedo or a blast from a Thanix cannon, nothing could touch the security detachment, safe behind the blast shield wall at every port entry and exit in the overhauled space port.

Aware of security vids, they briskly walked down the short corridor beyond and through one of the marked exits onto the landing pad where a marine stood by the opened hatch of a Kodiak. Seeing them, he saluted and waited till they had strapped themselves down in their seats before entering and closing the hatch behind him. The shuttle was relatively empty, saved for Kedar and Peliar, seated opposite each other on the other side of the compartment. Kedar flicked them a little wave of his fingers before returning his attention to the datapad he was holding. Peliar seemed too engrossed with messages from her omni-tool to look up. The marine made his way to the cockpit and shortly after, the Kodiak lifted off from the landing pad.

Looking out of the window, Shepard watched as the nearest AA guns swivelled to track the shuttle before returning to their customary watch of the sky. Further away, in the distance as the shuttle ascended steadily, she could make out Gardian laser towers, turret placements and watch towers along the boundary of the spaceport, patrolled by drones and gunships before all were hidden by clouds. This was one hell of a fortress. Almost impregnable or so one would think but she knew better. Nothing was ever invincible. Somewhere, somehow there was always a weakness.

The sky turned white, then ash grey before a field of stars spread across the blackness of space filled the expanse of the window. Artificial lights glowed and shimmered. Like denizens of a different ocean, ships of various sizes glided or darted about the space station in geostationary orbit around Thessia. Although half completed, it was already in operation, serving as the foremost supply and security checkpoint for merchant and military vessels. Keeping an eye on all the activity were a couple of Asari cruisers, whale-like in their wallowing majesty.

The Kodiak banked and an Alliance cruiser at station keeping came into view. The SSV Glasgow was one of the last surviving elements of Eighth Fleet that had fallen back to Ontarom to defend the vital communications hub during the Reaper War and was fortunate to endure the follow up attacks till the end of the conflict when it was withdrawn to the Czarnob g Fleet Depot before incorporated into the remnants of Third Fleet. The hull of the cruiser still bore marks of the engagements but she could pick out where the ship had undergone repairs. Sloppy paint job but who would care as long as the bulkhead was solid? Safety was all that mattered, not beauty. The shuttle slide past the shields and set down on the landing pad as the docking bay doors closed. Unstrapping themselves, Shepard briefly touched Liara on the arm before facing the hatch, taking a deep breath as she grasped her duffel in her left hand before someone outside opened the hatch.

"Permission to come aboard?" she eyed the grizzle hair officer who stood to the side as they exchanged salutes. Commander Canning, XO of the SSV Glasgow, according to the crew manifest that was sent to her a few days ago.

"Permission granted," he nodded. "Welcome aboard Captain Shepard. Dr T'Soni, Dr Olor, Dr T'Roson," he added as Liara appeared, then Kedar and Peliar, obviously having prepared beforehand to know the members of the expedition. "Lt Ulros here will show you to your quarters. Captain," he continued without missing a beat, "you're needed in conference at the com room. May I show you the way?"

Nodding assent, Shepard handed Liara her duffel before following him to the express lift that would take them straight to command deck while the others followed the lieutenant to the crew lift. Behind them, mechanised arms lifted the shuttle to the baffle once the pilots had exited.

"The expedition group is quartered on deck five, sir," Canning said as he punched in the code at the lift panel.

"Current opertaional status?" Shepard said, feeling a slight tremor under her boots as the lift swiftly ascended. The cruiser was already moving. Not a good sign.

"C3, sir," a grave note entered his voice. "Fleet alert status was raised as of two days ago."

What happened? Shepard bit back the question though her stomach clench as a familiar stone came to settle. Not exactly what she wanted to feel at the moment. The conference would no doubt fill in all the blanks on the current situation. However, there was only one obvious cause to provoke the rise in state of alert. What were they up to? The question fretted and bounced around in her head as she stepped after Canning once the lift doors opened, down the corridor, nodding absently as crewmen slipped to the side and snapped to attention. The com room was empty saved for a tall lanky officer facing the holographic images of two fleet officers. Hearing their entrance, the lanky officer turned around and she was startled to see the most horrific scar scewed from his forehead to his chin.

"Captain Shepard, welcome aboard," he offered his hand to her. "Captain Dorrin."

"Thank you. Admiral Hackett, Admiral Landon," she nodded in acknowledgement as Canning sealed off the room and stood at ease behind them. The presence of Landon turned up the level of her anxiety for he was head of Naval Intelligence.

"Shepard, three days ago the SSV Ain Jalut was sent on a stealth reconnaissance of the Hekate System in Hades Nexus," Hackett began without preamble. "Her primary mission was to investigate disappearances of merchant freighters and tankers that had occurred over the last several months. During the course of her search, an attack on a freighter was observed."

"Observed?" Her eyes narrowed, not liking the implication.

"Operation Blackfish," Landon said. "Mole and wedge. One of our operatives was onboard the freighter. Tracking beacons were installed on the freighter, the cargo and the agent. The Ain Jalut tracked one of the beacons to one of the moons of Triodia where it encountered a Turian dreadnought and a flotilla of fighters."

"That's..," she began incredulously but halted when Landon held up his hand.

"The transponder beacon identified it as the Valiant. According to the Turians, the Valiant was reported as..," he hesitated, "lost in the initial skirmish in the Castellus System by Reaper forces."

"But they're not sure now?"

"They are not sure who is manning the dreadnought right now," Hackett stated grimly. "But we can hazard a guess."

"TI," she muttered, not liking the scenario that was spawning in her head.

"We have kept a lid on their activities as best we could out of the public eye. It was muted at the end of the war but more than a year ago, we see a slight increase in the number of attacks on manufacturing plants, agrarian colonies, shipping, and stripping of fueling stations," Landon keyed in his omni-tool, sending data over so Shepard and Dorrin could see for themselves the actual number of incidents over the past fifteen months. "According to sources within smuggling cadres, various unknown groups are placing greater emphasis on hardware."

"The abductions of people from remote colonies," Dorrin pointed to the scrolling data on missing colonists, "do we have any further information on them, sir?"

"Unfortunately no. Other than for certainty, they will be put to use," drawing a deep breath, Hackett straightened. "All of these is building up to an unpleasant picture. The original premise that the TI are isolated within the boundaries of individual homeworlds and colonies with minimum mobility is no longer valid. We can say it is a probability they are working in concert together with intent towards us. It is clear that left to continue as they are, we face a credible possibility of another galactic conflict."

There was silence for a moment as they pondered. The galactic community could ill afford another war. The need to remove the TI was steadily getting more urgent with this new relevation. The existence of the dreadnought was a poser. Although she had no idea of the kind of resources the TI could possibly have, it was improbable they could restore a dreadnought by themselves. There had to be a group with the facilities already available and she was not liking the name that threw itself up.

"Sir, what happened to the Valiant?" It was unlikely the frigate took out the more heavily armed ship, Shepard was certain.

"While the Ain Jalut was engaged with the fighters, the Valiant made a FTL transition." The reason for the heightened fleet alert became clearer. The enemy had been alerted. What would they do next?

"Even if they were able to affect repairs to the dreadnought, it does not seem possible they would be able to restore enough ships within fifteen months," heavy doubt coloured Darrin's tone.

"Not if they had help," Shepard sighed, feeling a oncoming headache at her temples. "Cerberus," she clarified when Dorrin looked puzzled. His face cleared at once.

How apt the name was. Getting rid of one head did not necessary meant the other two would lie dormant. Even though Cronos Station was destroyed along with the defending Cerberus forces, there was no way of knowing how many more cells TIM had initiated when she turned her back on him and returned to the Alliance. Cerberus scientists and operatives who realised how warped TIM had become had defected during the war. Leaving how many who did not or was unable to? And whatever had TIM done to them?

"According to EDI, Cerberus had a few cells of different branches in operation. Unfortunately, there is no way of tracking them down," she wished TIM had been the heart, not the head. That way, Cerberus would have been totally dead when he killed himself. "Sir, what happened to the tracking beacons and the freighter?"

"The freighter was destroyed. Presumably, once the dreadnought alerted the boarding parties before it entered FTL. We have been unable to locate the beacons in any of the systems in Hades Nexus."

"So their base of operations is elsewhere," said Dorrin. Or bases, thought Shepard but forebore to say anything.

"We cannot detach any fleet elements at Asteria Station to further searches. That will be your primary objective, Captain Dorrin," said Hackett. "The 71st and 75th scout flotilla will conduct reconnaissance in systems adjacent to the Pangaea Expanse and report their findings to you. Should there be any positive sightings, you are to continue surveillance and amass as much information as possible until further notice."

"Yes, sir."

"Dismiss. Shepard," Hackett waved at her to stay while the other two saluted and exited the com room. Landon nodded to her before disappearing. Hackett waited until he was out of the room at his end before speaking. "The Normandy will make a rendezvous at the Mu Relay to pass over the package. There's one subject of note."

"Yes sir?"

"Dr T'Soni's aid as an information broker would be of help."

"Sir," she knew what it was he was not saying. "Most of the network is frayed and unreliable."

"I'm aware of that. We are facing the same problems at our end, not just us, even the Salarians dare not place as much confidence in their information as before. What we need is something that would point to where and whom are scavenging, selling, trading and buying. She may have surviving recources that could throw correlating data."

"I'll see what we can do."

"One last thing," Hackett cocked his head at her thoughtfully. "Have you given thought to our last conversation?"

"I have and I have to say I prefer terra firma, sir," she said apologetically. There was no way she would leave Liara for the Normandy, not then. Perhaps maybe, in the future, when the kids were grown and another offer came her way.

"That's not what I was hoping to hear," he sighed. "This is off the record, Shepard but the CO of Ain Jalut blew Operation Blackfish."

"Sir?" she said in astonishment.

"The beacons were our hope to locate their central operations or lead us to it, with the least minimum casualties."

"You're saying he took it upon himself to open engagement."

"Records show he ordered active scans when he couldn't get anything out of the probe other than a ship was lying doggo on the moon. In so doing, he lost whatever opportunity there was to recover the freighter, the crew and to capture the boarding parties," Hackett leaned on the railing at his end. "That freighter was rigged with gas to knock out the raiders."

"I see," there was nothing else she could say really.

"The offer is open indefinitely, Shepard. Let me know if you wish to discuss it. Good luck on the expedition. Hackett out."

Persistent. Shepard shook her head before exiting the com room to find Canning waiting outside to escort to her quarters. They chatted amicably on the rebuilding progress on Earth and made no attempt to bring up what had been bruited in the conference. Too many ears listening in along the corridors. He left her at the door of the cabin assigned to her and issued the invitation to dinner with Dorrin.

The cabin was clearly an officer's billet, despite the single bunk against the wall, as there was a shower and toilet compartment in the corner along with table and armchairs spread out in the centre. Liara looked up from the portable console she had brought with her, feeling the disquiet she had felt an hour ago coming across more clearly now that Shepard had entered the room. Without a word, Shepard crossed the room to sit beside her on the bed, clasping her hand as she did so. The exchange was swift.

_Goddess. Cerberus? I never thought we would run into them again._

_In hindsight, we should have guessed. I can't even guess how many more cells he could have set up._

_We have to try to find out. I'll have Glyph and Feron run through the data my sources have been sending me. There are backlogged missives I have not looked into yet._

_I'll have to contact Miranda._

_Why? Oh, the control chip. {A wave of disgust} That is a possibility. Though is there some connection between it and the method used on the Cerberus troops? With TIM gone, would the cells be able to exchange data? Given that they never knew the other._

_She's just the person to ask. I'm sure she knows more than she lets on. One thing for certain, we have to find answer at Ilos. Otherwise, we're in for the long night._

Three years at the most though that's not accounting for the recently taken. A shiver ran through Liara. Pushing aside the portable console, she hugged Shepard tighly, feeling better as her bondmate held her just as closely.

_And how many more will be lost? {sigh} Well, how are the others settling in?_

_I'm not sure though I did have a glimpse of the Salarians' cabin. {image of hamsters running on wheels}_

_You realise if Salarians are put on power grids, we would have a constant supply without fear of running dry._

_I think Jieull would love that idea._

_Glad she's not here, are you?_ Shepard drew back a little to tap her nose.

_Ohhh, if you could have seen the way she goes for the Salarians. {sigh} At least Peliar and the others are more reasonable._

_That remains to be seen. Being quiet doesn't necessarily mean agreement. By the way, we're having dinner with Dorrin._

_Hmm...I can see the menu in your mind already. That hungry for human food, are we?_

_Mass cooked it might be but I haven't tasted it for...ooof!_ She blinked as Liara tipped her back on the bunk and straddled her.

_I have another idea._

_... you are evil._


	19. Chapter 19

It was silent. Too silent. Lifting the breather visor of his helmet to free his face to the wind, he sniffed hopefully, doglike, despite the burning in his throat. Straining with every fibre of his being, for that touch, that music that touched the core of his soul. It shrivelled once more and he slumped. Why, why? Where had it gone to? Where had the voice gone to? Why did it leave him alone? So lonely. Must find, must find. Sized with need, he crouched down and frantically dug into the soft ground, ignoring the heat clogging up his lungs. A mound began to build up as he shovel with all his might, using his gauntlet hands. Engrossed in his task, he did not hear the calls nor the thud of running booted feet.

"Shit, what're you doing?" Hands wrenched him off the ground and he stared at helmeted faces, sweat running down his face, throat and lungs burning more fiercely. Faceless, why were they faceless?

"Goddamn it." A hand reached out to slam the visor down over his face. "Get him back to base, have doc look him over."

No, must find, he tried to say but could not get any words past his burning throat and fought against the hands that started to drag at him. Jabbing a hard elbow into the ribs of the man next to him, he body slam the man on his left once his right arm was freed. They fell to the ground and using all his strength, he pummeled relentlessly at the man's face, ignoring the pain that streaked up from his knuckles to his arm as gauntlet fist met unyielding helmet. Someone tugged at him from behind, shouting words he did not hear, his focus narrowed down on his target. Something hit his helmet from behind, sending him into darkness.

"Shit, doc, you should have seen him."

"How long was he breathing the shit out there?"

"Who cares? I don't know why we bother hauling his ass back here."

"You would if you have to clean the mess upstairs. Be good boys and go play elsewhere."

"Want to tie him down, doc?"

"Just go, I'll deal with it."

Babbilng, babbling, not the sound he wanted to hear. Pain. Something was clotted in his throat and he coughed, feeling cool mists swirling down his nose. A hiss and more mists, the burning ebbed away. Yes, less pain, he gulped in the mists greedily, breathing more easily. Strength returned although there was a throbbing at the back of his head. Objects wavered before his eyes as he opened them.

"Awake are we? How are you feeling?"

Grey eyes, grey hair, pale wrinkled face. She looked familiar but he could not put a name to her. Ignoring her questions, he lifted his head to take in his surroundings. Silence. Silence. Where is it? Pulling away the breathing cone from his face, he sat up, pushing away hands that tried to pull him down. Pale wrinkled face mouthed more words, she was dressed in a grey creamy uniform that roused flickers of memory.

"Quiet," he rasped, wishing she would stop talking but she did not seem to hear him. On and on she continued, distracting him, drowning him. "Quiet!" he roared, unable to bear the sound of her voice. His fist came up to smash into her face, feeling bones cracking, blood spilt. She reeled back to fall against the table behind her before slumping to the floor. Rubbing his face, he cocked his head. Where is it? Sliding down from the table, he stepped past the body, across the room and out the door. Silence. A faint thrum caught his attention. He shook his head, trying to get rid of it but it persisted. Why must there be that sound? It was not what he wanted to hear. He did not like it, he did not want it.

A cough racked him and he wheezed slightly, there was still burning in his lungs. For a moment, he was tempted to return to the room to breathe in more of that mists but the thrum intruded. A brief flash of memory, he turned and walked down the corridor, then another and another. Indistinct figures walked by but he did not see them, one or two perhaps went up to him but he barrelled on, intent on his target. Through a door, down a long flight of thrum grew louder and louder until finally, he was in a cavernous room. The thrum had become a louder beating boom that nearly sent him screaming in rage. It had to go. It was blocking. Blocking IT.

Almost whimpering, he threaded his way through the narrow passages and walkways before arriving at a bank of consoles. For several moments, he stood before them, not knowing what to do before a glimmer of memory floated to the fore. With tremblings hands, he enabled a haptic keyboard, automatically punching in codes he could barely recall. A holographic image sprang into life. Speaking words he had no wish of hearing.

"Hey! What're you doing?!" Running footsteps before hands pulled him around. "I said, what're you doing?!"

More faceless, more babbling. Bubbling rage sprang free and he shoved the faceless against the consoles. The faceless fought back, kicking him away before snatching up the pistol at his waist. Before the faceless could shoot, he unthinkingly threw a singularity field, got to his feet and snatched away the pistol as the faceless hung helpless. Blood splattered and floated. He emptied the pistol into the VI and threw it in rage when it would not shut up. Away. He had to be away. Ignoring the corpse at his feet, he stumbled back down the passage and stopped at an opened doorway he did not remember. It looked like a box. No, it was called a lift. It would get him away.

Hitting a button, he crouched down and huddled, jamming fingers into his ears as a wailing started up. The thrumming grew fainter as the lift ascended. When the door opened, he did not want to move, wishing it would continue ascending, taking him away. To IT. Noises intruded. Shouting. The wailing sounded even louder. He dashed out of the door, knocking into someone. More faceless.  
Why were there so many? He snatched away a rifle off a faceless's back.

"What the fuck do you..."

The faceless went down. And another. He grunted as pain blossomed in his thigh and ducked behind a stack of contaniners. Something bounced near him and he was rolling and running before he even knew what it was. That something exploded behind him. An opened hatch beckoned. Shuttle. He remembered and dove into it as a hail of gunfire followed his trail. Fully running on automatic responses, he hit the switch to close the hatch and strapped himself into the pilot chair. Fingers ran smoothly over the controls and the shuttle lifted. Below, figures ran for the other shuttles. Whatever their intentions were, they were too late. The cannons on the shuttle spat fire, turning the area below into a fiery inferno as fuel tanks were hit.

Turning the shuttle, he fired on the closed docking bay doors which buckled but did not open. Relentlessly, he continued until the cannons overheated before ramming the shuttle into the doors, now bent and warped. The doors broke, allowing the shuttle to make for the dark skies. As it ascended, he slumped in his seat. The thrumming was gone. Far below, the ground shook before erupting into a geyser of rock and soil. He did not know. He did not care. He was free. To find IT.

* * *

An Alliance cruiser in the Terminus Systems was generally unheard of. Practically unwise literally. Potentially suicidal, some may say. It would be akin to waving bait before a school of nomad sharks to band together to attack. Pre-Reaper War, that would be true. Post-RW, the Terminus Systems was as denuded as the rest of the galactic community. For once, pirates, smugglers, slavers cast aside their feuds and banded together to fight against the Reapers. The writing was on the wall, anyone could see it. For their very own existence, they had to fight. Most of them. A few scurried to hidey holes instead, covered the entrance behind them and hibernated, hoping the terror would pass them by.

Scum they might be, but lacking in cunning and courage, they were not. Though most would find it deplorable the slavers used most of their slaves as cannon fodder against the Reaper thralls. Whatever they could use, they did. Even if they did not succeed in preventing the Reapers from overtaking planets and colonies, they did slow their advance. At great cost to themselves. There was no actual estimate as to how many survived in the aftermath but an offhand missive from Aria seemed to indicate the only lucrative market at the moment was the black market. Judging from the tone of the message, Shepard doubted the pirate queen was upset that her revenues were so diminished. If nothing else, it allowed her fertile ground to shape the sphere of her turf carte blanche. For herself, having no slavers was a boon. No doubt the loathesome trade would make a comeback in the future but for now, the surviving colonies could breathe a little easier. Better if the TI and Cerberus could be rid off.

As it was, the Glasgow had traversed through the systems without incident and made rendezvous with the Normandy as arranged. As she waited patiently for the airlocks to pressurize, she wondered what sort of package Admiral Hackett had arranged. He had refused to divulge what it was except that it would help the Ilos expedition. The stipulation was that she had to be the one to receive it. Whatever "it" was, she hoped it was portable and extremely useful. Preferably one that could come up with some magic answer within twenty-fours hours, whereupon the solution could be applied at once and they could all live happily ever after. I should try writing fairy tales for once.

The VI announced pressurization complete and the hatches slide aside. Facing her on the other side was the current CO of the Normandy, Captain Votik, formerly the XO of the SSV Culloden in the 63rd Scout Flotilla. Her impression of him was vague; she hardly exchanged any pleasanties with him during the handover or even say much during the farewell reception. Partying was the least of her conern then. There was nothing but friendly regard in his countenance as they exchanged salutes and the standard boarding procedure. Much as she would like to take the tour he offered, she had to decline even though she would like to have a word with her former crew, especially Joker and EDI, to see how they were doing. Not that they did not send her regular emails but getting together was rather hard nowadays. Votik excused himself, presumably to get the package. Wouldn't he have it on him?

"You're not going to leave without saying hi, are you Skipper?" drawled a familiar voice.

"Who's in the driver's seat?" Shepard could not help grinning at Joker, standing at the opened hatch of the cockpit, his lucky cap tugged up high on his forehead.

"Who else but my favourite backseat supervisor," he jerked his head over his shoulder towards the cockpit.

"Backseat is a misnomer when I am omnipresent," EDI said placidly.

"Don't remind me," Joker groaned theatrically. "I can't even take a leak without looking over my shoulder."

"Does it matter if I'm looking over your shoulder? I could be looking elsewhere. I am afterall omnipresent."

"You know what, forget I say that."

"You will have to be more specific, Jeff. I have redundant memories."

"I just can't win," Joker slumped dejectedly. "Can I come with you, Shepard? I must have backlogged leave I can take."

"Two years three months to be specific."

"Jeez, that much? I could...," he broke off, cocking his head when Shepard rubbed her brow. "You alright?"

"Just that, I really miss you guys," she laughed before pulling a surprised Joker into a hug.

"I miss you too," he said, returning her hug before withdrawing, blinking rapidly. "You look really great."

"Whatever you do with your leave, keep a few days free twelve months from now."

"What happens in twelve months?" he asked curiously.

"You'll find out," she refused to say anymore but cast a look into the cockpit. "You too, EDI. I hope you can turn up."

"To the best of my ability, Shepard, I will," EDI waved to her from her co-pilot seat.

"So, any idea of what's going on?"

"Well, it's coming your way now," Joker nodded behind her.

Coming her way? Puzzled, she turned. Was that a Geth Prime? Hackett's package was a Geth Prime? Coloured and striped in hues of white, blue, red and greens to boot. The height of the command deck was too short for it so it had to bend slightly double. The deck barely shook under its tread. Surprising, considering its size. Perhaps it had a EZ core installed somewhere. That would account for why Geths could throw themselves from a height without smashing themselves upon landing.

"Captain Shepard," it said once it reached her, the flaps around its "eye" lifting slightly. "I am Module."

"You are the package I'm supposed to bring along?" gingerly, she took the hand it offered to her, somewhat surprised. The hand closed around hers gently. So much for portable. Light. Easy.

"I am. If we may proceed?" Module stepped aside, indicating she should lead.

"Lieutenant, Captain," she nodded to Joker and Votik who was standing behind Module before heading back to the Glasgow. Dorrin would have a field day, she doubted he even knew what the package was either. Neither were the marines standing at the other side of the airlock. Their double takes were such that she had to force herself not to laugh. "Conference?" she said once the airlocks were sealed.

"Not with all. To begin, Dr T'Soni, Captain Dorrin and you," Module glanced left and right of the corridor. Again, it had to bend double.

"We're on deck ten," she offered helpfully, thinking for a moment. "I guess we can start at my quarters."

"It would be satisfactory."

Module stepped after her down the passage to the lift. Other than the docking bay, she doubted there was any deck on the Glasgow that would allow the Geth to stand straight. Module said nothing as she notified Dorrin that the package was safe and to meet her in her quarters. A faint tremble was felt under her boots seconds later; the cruiser was moving towards the Mu Relay. With little information on the movements of their adversaries, speed was of essence. If no solution could be found at Ilos, they would have to fall back on the grind and clear process. It would be slow and painful but she did not doubt that eventually, Cerberus and the thralls would be gone. But it would leave the survivors that much more damaged at all levels.

Liara greeted Module with aplomb, having an idea what was coming her way as Shepard approached their quarters. Dorrin, who showed up a few minutes later, barely turned a hair and shook Module's hand fearlessly. As they sat down in the armchairs around the small table, Module folded itself beside Shepard. The effect was that it became "smaller" than they were.

"Let's get the ball rolling. Why did Admiral Hackett send you?" Shepard began.

"In order to find asnwers, we need the knowledge of Vigil," Module's eye flaps wavered up and down.

"That is correct," nodded Liara. "The preliminary plan is to locate the spent power source within the archives, replace it and try to revive the VI."

"Previous expeditions in 2184 has been inconclusive," a ray of light from Module's eye was directed to the table and a holographic map sprang up. "Explorations extrapolated to have covered only thirty percent of the Ilos archive before all attempts to map the facility was withdrawn."

"Lovely, that leaves us seventy to dig through," Dorrin said dryly. "By the time we arrive at the end of it, the conflict is over."

"We're not mapping the entire facility, we just need to locate the power source," corrected Liara. "Although it would not be as easy we might think it is," she said reluctantly. "We can only hope the layout is archetype of Prothean colonies found on other planets."

"If it isn't, we're in deep shit," Shepard sighed. "Literally. You might have to pick up a shovel, Dorrin."

"I wouldn't mind hitting dirt, once in a while," he grinned.

"You two can shovel all you like," crossing her arms, Liara regarded them narrowly. "I'm banking on the VI Module is holding."

"You have Vendetta?" Shepard turned to Module.

"Admiral Hackett surmised it is more prudent to transfer the VI to me for security reasons, Captain Shepard."

"Just Shepard," she said, thinking she could grow tired of being addressed by her rank if Module were to be with them for quite some time.

"As you wish," Module nodded. "Additionally, I can provide secondary support in the search should Vigil fail to function or either Vendetta is unable to supply information."

"Is it wise to download into a mainframe you have no knowledge of?" said Liara.

"Only a part of my programs would be utilised, Dr T'Soni. Moreover, it is not for me to stand aside when the future is threatened."

"All aboard for Eden," Dorrin proclaimed, cupping his hands around his mouth and grinned when Module's eye flaps stayed up.

"How much function would you lose should those programs...go astray?" Liara said worriedly and added when the others looked at her. "We may not have the TI among us but we could have sympathisers."

"I guess that's why Hackett sent a Geth Prime. To destroy Vendetta, someone would have to get a really big gun or arranged something to fall on Module. But she has a point," Shepard frowned. "It may be possible to sabotage your programs within the mainframe."

"I have security protocols. As it is, Geths are impossible to hack into." Was that pride in its voice? Shepard flashed Liara a glance, wondering if she caught it. "If the programs within the mainframe are lost, my primary functions remain unimpaired."

"Well, I guess that pretty much asnwer the vital points," Dorrin shrugged at Shepard. If Module was not willing to be clearer, they could hardly force it to clarify.

"We will have to decide on the best plausible point of entry," leaning forward, Liara studied the holographic layout which did not look entirely familiar to her. "And we are not landing in a Mako this time, are we?" she shuddered at the memory of that frightening drop, knowing they could all die immediately if Joker miscalculated or if they smashed into something along the way.

"That was a wild ride I wouldn't mind repeating," Shepard grinned at the look Liara threw her.

"You'll have to tell me about that one," Dorrin said. "As it is, we have no Makos onboard, only frigates carry them," he laughed when Liara heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief. "You'll be shuttled in."

"All right then, let's get going," Shepard studied the map. "Recommendations, Module?"

"The previous expeditions have set up camps in annexe B and C, north and west of the original entry in your initial landing," began Module, zooming in on the specific locations. "They have been designated..."


	20. Chapter 20

With less than an hour or so from Ilos, she decided to make the call. The timing was reprehensible, considering where she was making the call to but the person she had in mind had only herself to blame since she had been trying to get hold of her for the past few days. Too, having as much enlightenment on murky subjects was a priority under current circumstances. Timing be damned. When the first attempt timed out, she dialed again. And again, until finally, it was picked up. Disgruntled she might be at receiving a call dead of the night, Miranda's displeasure vanished after she had a good look at who was calling her and excused herself, leaving Shepard to gaze with interest at the view of the room on her end. _Getting rustic, are we?_

Wood. A light golden chestnut coloured wooden wall or it looked wooden to her, with a framed picture hung on it and what looked like a bow, over it. A cluster of sunflowers by the window, a musical instrument she could not put a name to but stirred some vague memory. Part of the bed could be seen; rumpled cream and maroon bedsheets atop what looked like a bunk made of twigs and branches. Did she teleport herself into the past couple of centuries? When Miranda said she was going to settle down with her sister, Oriana, in a backwood colony, Shepard certainly did not envision this. Two years on and the ice queen appeared to be taking it easy. Literally.

Looking suitably refreshed and ready to handle any brickbats going her way, Miranda appeared. Even so, her startlement was clear when she understood what Shepard was asking. For a moment, she said nothing, seeming to collect her thoughts.

"Dissemination of information on successful development of any material was always handled by the Illusive Man," a frown creased her brows. "He liked full control as to where, whom and how it should be used. Precedence was given to critical projects. More specialized hardware, like the control chip for example, was exclusive."

"Exclusive. How?"

"The control chip was mostly utilised in...field agents," crossing her arms defensively, Miranda sat back.

"I take it that these field agents were not volunteers," returned Shepard caustically, recalling a conversation they had on the Citadel during the Reaper War. How guilt strickened the former Cerberus operative had been, for wanting to install one of those chips in her. Recognsing how close to the edge Miranda was; pursued by Cerberus assassins, anxious over her missing sister, available resources dwindling in her search for Oriana, she had chosen to forgive her. To ease one of the dark shadows hanging over Miranda whom she had come to regard as a friend. It was the least she could do then for the one person who had played a vital role in returning her to the living and saved her life twice over. The Illusive Man might have given the order, spent all those billions of credits but he could not do it without Miranda and her team of researchers.

"It had to be done," Miranda looked away for a moment before sighing. "As far as I know, the first test subjects were operatives whose loyalties were suspect. The result was...less than ideal."

"When was this carried out?"

"As early as 2170. The early trials set test subjects on minor objectives but their brains were unable to process the information. They suicided. After refinement and further trials, the first successful assassination was carried out."

"How does the control chip work?"

"Primarily, it works like a miniature VI which is given a set of perimeters to recognise and initiate a series of programs within the subject once those perimeters are met. Control is not absolute, the subject has autonomy, until the program kicks in."

"So if this chip was programmed to set the subject to kill a rat...," Shepard tried to imagine how it would work.

"Not just any rat," a dry chuckle escaped Miranda before she sobered, "there would be specifications; colour, size, type and so on."

"What happens if there's a need to change the objective?"

"A set of codes, new program, hack the satellites and transmit."

"That easy," Shepard muttered as she imagined herself implanted with such a chip and having the Illusive Man pulled her strings every so once in a while just with a touch of a key. How fortunate he had been in control of himself during her resurrection to reject Miranda's proposal. "Can the chips be disabled using the same method?"

"Yes but each inidvidual chip carries a different code and no, I don't have any idea what they are," Miranda added.

"Do you know if the other Cerberus cells are still in operation? If they are, can they communicate with each other? What possible resources ccan they call upon?"

"Before, I would say with certainty that without the Illusive Man, the cells are essentially incapacitated. Some cells could continue operations if they had the audacity to carry on and sell off their projects to the highest bidder. But now?" she hesitated uneasily before continuing slowly. "During my search for Oriana? I've been getting feedbacks from a few contacts within that a large number of Cerberus employees, researchers had been sent for ...retraining."

"Brynn Cole did say several of her colleagues who had completed their part of the projects, disappeared," Shepard rubbed her chin musingly. "What do you think retraining entailed?"

"Given what I've read of the reports on Cerberus' troops during the war and files I came across at Sanctuary," a grimace of repulsion crossed Miranda's face, "the chip was possibly modified with Reaper technology. No," she shook her head vehemently. "It would have been enhanced and mass produced. Implanted subjects would most certainly have more dependency on programmed dictates. What happened to those people who believed and worked for Cerberus? I don't think I have to spell it out."

"Meaning once he had what he wanted, there was no longer any need for those cells," Shepard wondered she missed that point totally.

"All he needed was his own army of thralls. That blatent attempt of a coup at the Citadel was his first stone to the throne," Miranda snorted. "Cerberus was hardly a secret. The reason the Illusive Man had to hide was that he risked getting stomped into the ground by the galactic mass of aliens and their backyard sympathisers he abhored. The Reapers just set the stage for him to make his grand entrance to curve his own pie. Delusional as it was."

"Miranda, how much intellect would the subject retain with the enhanced chip? Enough to carry on without a controller?"

"Not enough information to go on, I'm afraid," Miranda said apologetically. "But even if they were rendered automatons, the Illusive Man had his own camp followers."

"Damn." It was turning out worse than Shepard envisioned. "Resources?"

"Shepard, do the math," Miranda leaned into the screen at her end. "4 billion credits to rebuild you was just a drop in the bucket. Don't forget the showboat he tossed over to you to blow the Collectors up and everything else you ran into during the war that had his stamp. Moreover, he had years to stockpile."

"Touche," Shepard said wryly. "Don't let Joker hear you say that though, he's practically glued to EDI and the Illusive Man wasn't happy with the fireworks I set off, remember?"

"How could I forget," Miranda sighed. "That was the start of quite a run. So," a stern look came to settle over her. "What do you need?"

"Much as I hate to say this but could you possibly drag yourself out of your halcyon abode to let the Alliance pick your brains?"

"Took you long enough."

"You were expecting this development?"

"Not exactly," Miranda shrugged. "I was hoping..," she shook her head, "let's just say I was trying to be optimistic."

"We'll get them, Miranda," Shepard said encouragingly. "As it is, the Alliance have only just started looking into the Cerberus corpses they are holding so you don't have too much to sift through."

"The smart ones always know to start at the bottom. That's where all the good stuff filtrate to," stifling a yawn, Miranda looked pointedly to one side. "So where's my ride?"

"The showboat is already on the way."

"That certain of me, are you Shepard?"

"You bet your ass I do. Keep in touch."

"Sure. Regards to T'Soni? I think I can see her breathing down your neck," a flash of a cocky grin before Miranda cut the feed from her end.

Breathing down her neck Liara was not, seated on the other side of the table working at her console but listening to every word of the discussion. For a moment, she said nothing, leaning back in her chair as she quietly reflected on the information Miranda had provided. The idea of mass produced chips boded ill if the TI were not the culprits behind the abductions. Were the chips still in production? It was then she realised she had forgotten to ask how the chips were implanted. It was highly doubtful the procedure would be as complicated as surgery if the chip was enhanced by Reaper technology. The method of delivery would have been straightforward. Her train of thought vanished when Liara spoke up.

"Perhaps the Reapers were not as bad as they seem."

"Are you serious?" Shepard was shocked Liara would come up with such a statement.

"Which would you prefer? The obvious enemy or the insidious enemy?" Liara looked thoughtfully at her bondmate. "I think the answer is obvious," she said when Shepard only frowned at her. "To have an enemy silently devouring your defenses before you even knew he was there is the most terrifying aspect in any conflict. The Illusive Man was a thorough and canny adversary. He had the ability to attract supporters and the capability to strike at his targets without anyone the wiser he was behind it all. If the Reapers had not interfered, he would have achieved his ultimate goal."

"Not within his life time, he won't," she shifted uneasily in her chair, not certan she could refute her statement, "but his adherents could."

"Yes, they could," Liara nodded in agreement. "His legacy would have lived on."

"Frankly, it had crossed my mind that if we were somehow able to overcome the Reapers, he would have been the next problem to tackle," slouching down in her seat, she stretched out her legs as she interlaced her fingers before her face. "With him out of the picture, what are the chances his followers have taken over the remaining Cerberus forces?"

"It is a possibility but," pausing for a moment, Liara touched a key on her console, "we may be reaching beyond."

"You mean the Alliance could be jumping the gun by assuming they are working with the TI," feeling her throat running dry, Shepard reached for the glass of water on the table and drained it.

"What do you think?"

"We could be amplifying the TI's capabilities," Shepard said slowly, "but neither can we underrate them. The other contingent to consider is that we are facing separate foes. In which case, Cerberus hold the ace."

"Look," turning her console to face Shepard, Liara pointed to a highlighted column of data, "in the first six months after the end of the war, the number of skirmishes with the TI were all confined within the boundaries of homeworlds and colonies. The only air power they were capable of were Kodiaks, gunships and skycars. Which is still what they are utilising up to the present day."

"And given how much malevolence they have towards us, they would have fired their biggest guns at the onset."

"I would agree. Now, nine months later, reports of unknown attacks on shipping and stripping of refueling stations," Liara tapped another key to display another row. "That was also the time when the revived galactic economy was picking up pace. Feron said there were a few representatives from newly setup companies putting out feelers for scavenged technology, parts and recruiting workers at the same time."

"Workers?" that familiar pit came to settle in her stomach. "Admiral Hackett did not mention those."

"He would not," Liara said unhappily, "recruitement is not upfront. The terms offered are a combination of credits and grain."

Just the right kind of incentive to offer when food supply was the foremost criteria of every race in post-RW era. The Illusive Man's sycophants were turning out just as black as their fallen leader.

"I can see why shipping was attacked," tipping back her head against the back of the chair, Shepard closed her eyes. The glow of the lights in the cabin seemed too bright. "I would hate to estimate just how much the Illusive Man had stockpiled."

"There could be a surviving fleet, shipyards," murmured Liara, turning the console back towards her, "perhaps even part of a loyal workforce. I have sent what I know of the Illusive Man's business fronts but those are all mostly outdated and defunct. I do not think he would find much. I will have Feron try to locate those representatives. As for suppliers, they are very much diverse. I think they are trying not to attract attention to themselves."

"You know what," Shepard sat up, feeling sick and tired of having to deal with old adversaries once again. "Reapers, Illusive Man, they were both equally insidious. I don't see any damn difference between them. I wished I had shot the heart out of him," she stood up angrily as Liara watched worriedly. "If I could, I'd lined up every single one of his cronies before a firing squad before spacing their corpses." As she began to pace, a beep from shipwide com was heard before a voice was heard.

"Thirty minutes to orbital insertion. Expedition members report to docking bay. Captain Shepard please report to CIC."

"Well, I hope we get some damn answers down there," unfastening her tunic, she tossed it on the bed before making for the toilet to refresh herself. When she returned, Liara had her armor laid out. Removing her shirt, pants and boots, she reached for the lower bodysuit and drew it on. Reaching out to touch the scars on her torso, Liara felt the anger simmering in her.

_I want them gone as much as you do, Shepard. {anxiety} But please ..._

_Part of me is vexed I wasted two years. Two years. I should have realised Cerberus aren't completey done yet. Now I find we have to battle two fronts! And neither of them are so obliging as to stand out there to be shot._

_Shepard..._

_I know, I know. I'm just venting. {sigh}_ She put her arms around Liara. _I want them gone. Totally gone so I can breathe easier. Knowing that you and I, our child need not have to start at every shadow._

_We will. See that brighter day. Just promise me you will not go dashing off trying to deal with everything yourself._ Tried as Liara might, she could not suppress the fear and depth of emptiness she had felt when Shepard had told her to go, to save herself. Twice it had happened. A third might just see the end of her. The warmth and feel of her bondmate against eased her distress somewhat.

_There won't be a third. I promise._ Shepard placed a quick kiss on her lips. _Now, before Dorrin send out search parties, I'd better get dressed._

With Liara's help, she buckled on the armor in record time. Scouring the cabin to make sure they had brought everything they needed, they parted at the door. Clutching her helmet under her arm, Shepard made for the express lift to CIC. The lack of alert readiness eased her tension when she reached the command deck which was a quiet hive of activity. Compared to the CIC onboard the Normandy, there were more manned stations and crew, centralised around the holo display in the middle of the deck. It was where the commanding officer would station himself, with easy access to both crew and data.

"How does it look?" she said when she reached Dorrin who was standing off to one side of the holo display, reading a datapad.

"Ran three different cycles from the probes we launched since we entered the Refuge System," he waggled the datapad n his hand. "Active scans on approach confirmed it's pretty much a dead world. I'd say you're good to go."

"All right," she nodded. "Anything from the 71st and 75th?"

"Nothing as yet, I'll update if they uncover anything. And Shepard," he added as she turned away. "Good luck down there."

"We sure can use some. Oh, and ready your shovel, just in case," she threw him a sharp snappy salute before returning to the lift and descended to the docking bay.

A few marines were loading the last of the supplies and equipment when she reached the shuttle she was assigned to. Latching on her helmet, she ran a check on the weapons Lt Ulros handed to her. Her fingers ran easily over the weapon components, feeling she had just had a reunion with old friends before she mounted them on her back and waist. That done, she ran a visual check on the squad in the shuttle with her. Command of the ground unit that was accompanying the researchers had been detailed to her. A precaution she approved of. Besides the security they would provide, additional muscle power was welcomed if there were need of it. The more hands to dig, the faster the job would get done, Dorrin had quipped. Too, she no doubt the marines could use some liberty after being cooped up on a starship even if it wasn't the usual type of shore leave.

"Status, lieutenant?" she said after looking over the equipment strapped down in the middle of the cargo hold.

"All ready, sir," he said, shutting the hatch to the shuttle before strapping himself into one of the empty seats.

_Alright, let's get rolling._ Poking her head briefly into the cockpit to speak to the pilots, she sat down next to Liara. Before long, the shuttles lifted off. As the cruiser gradually fell back behind the shuttles, she looked out of the window to see a familiar rust coloured world.

_There better be an answer down there._


	21. Chapter 21

Nothing moved across the sky, saved for wisps of clouds. Insubstantial and flimsy, they offered no shelter from the burning gaze of the sun. Once a vibrant breathing world, now, nothing but soil covered the arid surface where the only visible living thing was a stubborn green moss like growth that cast itself under every centimetre of shade. The great Prothean cities that had once spread across the planet were long gone, crumbled to dust.

Peering through the window from her seat, Liara wondered if there was a specific reason behind the devastation. As far as she could ascertain, the Reapers generally did not ravage the ecosystems of the homeworlds to the point of extinction. Their primary motive had always been the elimination of technologically advanced races of each cycle. Exacting and precise, all traces of those races were totally removed before they ended the cycle and departed for dark space. In the hundreds of years that followed, life sprang forth again on battered worlds. However, according to Vigil, the Reapers had in fact, devastated entire worlds. The reason behind it was unknown.

It was different for Ilos. The cause of the destruction was not the Reapers. Whether the reason behind it had been the Protheans themselves or some other force remained to be determined. There had hardly been any time for her to search and study in her initial visit, nor had she been able to return in the years after the Battle of the Citadel. Archeological digging had been the last thing on her mind when her entire focus had been to hunt the Shadow Broker down. Now that she had an opportunity to carry out her initial desire, she could hardly wait.

When the terrain turned to hilly ridges, Shepard's helmet comlink bleeped, she listened for a moment before unstrapping herself from her seat to make her way to the cockpit. They must be getting near their destination. Liara looked expectantly at the dark screens in the cargo compartment which flickered to life after a while. Using her feet to brace herself as the shuttle banked, she studied the images as they flew over a protruding remnant of a long segment of wall built into the hill. Set against a portion of the wall was an incongruous comtemporary prefab dwelling. This was the western entrance designated simply as Lower Archive C or LAC. They had chosen this particular entry as it was the nearest access to the trench elevator that had led them to Vigil.

Returning to the cargo compartment as the shuttle descended, Shepard gestured to the squad who unbuckled themselves from their seats, checking over their weapons and armor once more. Seeing Liara doing the same, the desire to tell her to stay behind while they reconned the area and dwelling hovered on her lips but she held them back, choosing instead to make sure her bondmate's helmet and visor breather were latched securely and resisted from running yet another check on her armor. Liara might not be too pleased with her for making such a fuss if she did so. Tried as she might not to be overprotective, it was difficult sometimes to stamp down on the desire to cocoon her up.

"Eyes peeled," she said to them, flashing a look to Liara who had unclipped her Hurrican SMG from her waist, before opening the hatch once the shuttle had set down. Instantly, her visor adjusted to the intense sunlight that glared into the shuttle before she could even squint. A quick glance through the hatch and she stepped out into a cloud of drifting fine rusty dust raised by the shuttle. Even though her armored bodysuit maintain a balanced thermal insulation, she could peripherally feel the heat streaming off the ground. It was perhaps an illusion cast by the harsh sunlight but she doubted anyone would want to walk about in casual clothing in an environment that measured a whopping thirty-eight degree celsius with no sign of a waterhole.

Flicking her fingers, she split up the squad, sending them in twos and threes to cover as much ground as possible around the dwelling while she pulled one of the marines, Foster, with her and Liara to take a look at the nearby generators. Covered by a layer of dust, defunct and outmoded they may look, the control panel lit up readily when Liara touched the activation pad.

"Remaining active fuel cells read at three-quarters, reserves at maximum," she murmured as she checked the readouts.

"We're good for six months then," said Shepard without taking her eyes from her visual survey of their surroundings and her arm bumped against Liara's as she turned around. _Have you keyed in the new code?_

_Yes._ "There should be additional fuel cells in storage. Generators are online," Liara said, doing a final check before closing down the protective cover over the console.

"Alright, let's move on to base. How's it look, Lt?" Shepard switched to the squad comm.

"Clear at 50, sir," he said.

"Take the other squads to base entrance B and clear level 2 and 3. We'll take the rest."

Gesturing to Foster, Shepard led the way to the side entrance of the prefab closest to them. The door opened easily to admit them into a small decontamination chamber. A quick scan and they were through to operations. With the generators brought online, the room was lit and the consoles glowed softly. Putting away her SMG, Liara went to work on the nearest console as Shepard and the marine looked around. The previous survey team had left in an orderly manner, withdrawn during the Reaper War in response to the call for researchers to help with the construction of the Crucible. Saved for a few scattered datapads and empty cups they had neglected to dispose of, the workstations were bare.

"Air filtration at 70 percent, there could be some clogging at the intakes," said Liara, scrutinising the data carefully. "Water pumps, purifiers and recyclers are online."

"So far so good. Come on," Shepard jerked her head towards the doors leading to the rest of the level.

Leaving the console, Liara joined Shepard and Foster at the doors. Confident that there would be no danger lurking around the corners, they went down the corridor to find the medlab, all ten beds bare and ready for any emergency. Retracing their steps, they went down the other side of the corridor, passing the main entrance to the prefab, to storage. Fuel cells stood in a corner, pristine in their hard storage covers. Whatever food the researchers had left behind were a few small crates of energy bars and medical supplies, along with a small rack of pistols and shotguns.

"Run a check and a count on those, Foster," Shepard nodded towards the weapons, "plus any other munitions." She turned away as Foster tabbed on his omni-tool to scan the weapons and returned to operations with Liara when Ulros reported that the upper levels were clear. Time to bring in the rest circling around in the shuttles. Enabling communications in operations, she opened a link to Glasgow to update Dorrin that base Delphi was secured and notified the shuttle pilots to land.

"Air density optimum." Liara announced, after checking the readouts displayed on the largest overhead screen. Before she could stop her, she unlatched and removed her helmet before taking a deep breath.

"I'd rather you let me be the guinea pig."

"Guinea pig?" What kind of an animal was that? Liara searched memories gleaned from her bondmate for some idea of this pig.

"Something like a lab rat," unlatching her own helmet, Shepard ran a hand over her short hair even as she took a breath; slightly musty but clear.

"First a pig, then a rat, would you not rather be human?" Liara said teasingly, reaching out to brush aside a few spiky long strands falling into her eyes.

"I can be anything," she grasped her hand, rubbing a thumb along the palm. "As long as you are safe."

_Shepard, I know what I am doing. {a mixture of pleased approval and mild pique}_

_Alright, alright, I'll stop mother henning._

_Oh now you are a hen. You are certainly a fount of talents._

The muffled row of thumping boots, followed by the engines of the shuttles outside the prefab broke them apart. Sounds of which reminded them of more pressing concerns. Still, she managed to land a peck on Liara's cheek before Ulros appeared at the doors with the marines. Getting down to business, she sent a technician and a couple of marines to clear the clogged air filters and the rest out to the shuttles to help unload equipment and supplies.

The first of the researchers into the prefab was Kedar, Shepard fancied his horns were emitting little electric streaks of excitement, removing his breather mask even as his eyes blinked rapidly to adjust to the dimmer lights. Without further ado, he set himself down at the nearest workstation and began to delve into the stored data. Like magnets drawn to metal, the rest of the Salarians followed suit except for a few who galloped to the living quarters on the third level to dump their personal items before coming down to join their fellows.

Following at a sedate pace, the Asari researchers ignored the industry of the Salarians to sail upstairs with their gear. Exchanging a glance with Shepard, Liara wondered if they would choose to work apart from the Salarians. Not once on the journey from Thessia to Ilos, had her colleagues attempted to mix with the Salarians. It was as if Jieull's outburst at that last conference had permanently thrust a wedge between them. Which was regretable as both Asari and Salarians had centuries of harmonious concord between them. Their obvious enmity made their compliance to come along on a mission that ran counter to their stance on the TI, suspect. Was it politics or a need to sabotage the mission that motivated them? It made little sense to Liara. There couldn't be only two aspects to explain their presence.

A flash of something huge passing the doors distracted her for a moment before she realised it was Module, helping to carry in the biggest cargo to storage. No doubt the marines would be appreciative at not having to wrestle large loads with a Geth Prime providing muscle. It had been a pleasant surprise to find the crew of the Glasgow willing to interact with it. Part of it probably had to do with the Geths helping to clear homeworlds of Reaper corpses. The other was that Module was easy to fraternize with, with its air of earnestness and engaging interest to learn and converse. The Salarians were pleased to hold long discourses with it though her colleagues were more wary. A soft murmur of conversation between Shepard and Ulros reminded her that time was wasting and she set herself to her task.

Within the hour, the base was fully operational. After a quick examination of the second level that comprised of the main research facility and living quarters on the third level, Shepard had the recon team that was to make the first foray into the bunker gathered at the airlock of the main entrance of the base. The doors were set flush against what the researchers believed to be one of several emergency egress along the walls of the archives. Casting a last critical eye at the group, she palmed the door panel to reveal the dim bowels of the bunker.

Sparkles of dust drifted lazily in the glow of dull yellow light, filtering through cracks created by centuries of burrowing moss in the ceiling. As time went by, the moisture and shelter offered by the bunker encouraged roots to thicken and grow into heavy trunks that reached down into the groundwater. Several wall panels had fallen, leaving behind bare rock hard soil in their place. Dark silent cryogenic pods formed a regular pattern in the niches of the walls. Looking about them, she realised they stood on a small high ledge, running parallel along the bunker. At least a eighty metre drop or more, thought Shepard as she peered over. Fortunately, they need not have to climb down for the previous teams had installed a lift platform. Nor did they have to walk for there were trucks parked at the bottom of the lift shaft. Meant to transport personnel, construction and research materials, the trucks had flatbeds attached.

Two trucks would do. Mentally, Shepard tried to seize Module up into the cabin but failed. It was just too large, even if it folded itself and the others were willing to squeeze. As if reading her thoughts, Module stated that it would ride on the flatbed. Problem solved. True to form, Peliar opted to ride in the second truck. Without any comment, Kedar settled into the first. Shepard had the impression that as long as he succeeded in the quest for a definitive solution to the TI, he did not care if the Asari researchers refused to cooperate in the current endeavor. It was out of tolerance than reliance on their abilties that he made no objections or response to the stone wall they erected.

As she was about to climb into the first truck, a lone vehicle standing in the shadow of a truck against a corner caught her eye. The shape of it roused a forgotten memory. Was it really what she thought it was? As she rounded the corner of the truck to have a good look, her suspicions were confirmed. One of the members of the previous research teams must have been a human. No way a Salarian or an Asari would think of such a mechanism.

"Captain, what is it?" Foster leaned out of the driver's seat to ask inquiringly. Unable to see the object of her interest from where he was, he wondered what was holding her up even as Liara climbed down from the cabin, puzzled by her bondmate's captivation.

"Just a second," Shepard said, reaching to hit a key. The vehicle thrummed into life. "You can move off, Foster, I'll catch up," she said, pleased with the readout on the fuel gauges.

"Uh, yes, sir," puzzlement was rich in his voice but he obeyed, closing the door of the cabin and drove off down the wide corridor with the second truck following closely behind.

"What is it?" Liara said when she reached Shepard who was straddling the strange vehicle and sliding her hands up and down on the handlebars.

"It's a hovercycle."

"A what?" the excitement in Shepard's voice was perplexing. She blinked as her bondmate grasped her hand, imparting an image of a two-wheeled vehicle running at speed along a road. A helmeted rider was weaving in and out of ancient looking vehicles on what appeared to be a busy road on Earth, chased by more vehicles with lights flashing. The machine before her looked like the vehicle Shepard had shown her except that it had no wheels.

_I think one of the previous researchers brought this along and didn't bring it back. {delight} I saw this once before at a Alliance depot when I was a kid. Such vehicles are only seen groundside._

_Shepard, you are not going to ...ride this, are you? {nervous} You have not driven one, have you?_

_I did. Once. {cheerful anticipation}[Image of an oddly small pair of bare hands, holding onto the handlebars, flying landscape populated by figures diving to the sides, all sporting expressions of shock, horror and amazement before the scene wobbled widly, impacting into a large metal container, flashes of light]_

_You crashed it. {dismay} Surely you are not... _A gasp escaped her when Shepard pulled her to stand next to the hovercycle saddle.

_Get on._

_This is not a good idea. We should take one of the trucks..._

_Don't you trust me?_

_Shepard, this is a high speed vehicle. Is it wise to ..._

_Come on, love. Please? {pleading entreaty} It's really no different from a skycar._

_Promise me you will let me get off when I say so? {reluctance}_

_Don't worry, you'll love it._ Shepard pulled Liara's arms around her torso once she had seated herself behind her. _Put your feet on those little protruding struts. Now hold on tight._

_Why is there no ... aaaahhhhhhh!_

A scream of fright nearly escaped Liara when the hovercycle launched off at speed down the trench. Feeling she was about to fall off, she hugged on to Shepard for dear life. It was a bad idea, it was a really really bad idea. Regret babbled and bounced around in her mind as she looked over Shepard's shoulder. They were going so fast! Illusion and inexperience foisted that impression upon her. For in reality, they were cruising along at 60 km/h. Faster than the trucks which they overtook a minute later. Risking a look behind, Liara fancied she could see the amazement on Peliar's face behind her breather mask. After a moment of astonishment, the marines whooped and whistled shrilly before Foster reined them in. Hidden under his helmet though, he was grinning hugely. Damn, wouldn't he want a ride on that machine too.

They easily outstrip the trucks and left them behind. Down the corridor and a ramp they went. The hovercycle was a joy to handle, responding easily to every turn she made as she negotiated around large roots that had claimed their share of the corridor. Not too light, not too heavy. Whoever it was that had brought it to Ilos must have spent some time playing the daredevil along the trench, she was certain. It was the ideal place to go full throttle. The temptation hovered but she pushed it away. Not with Liara at her back.

_Still want to get off?_

_I still do not see your fascination with it. _Slightly more at ease, Liara raised her head to look around her.

_For the thrills. There's nothing like being one with the machine under your control, running at speed. You go where you will._

_It is an interesting concept. _An unusual coloured metal strip that was swiftly approaching caught her eye_. I think we are near that lift we took down to talk to Vigil._

_I see it._

The doorway looked familiar to her eye as she halted before it, the metal strip jutting out crossways was not. Probably a landmark deliberately left behind by the previous team. With legs that trembled slightly. Liara slide off the saddle, glad to be firmly on the ground again and uncertain she would want to ride it again when they returned back to the surface. Thumbing off the engines, Shepard pushed the hovercycle to one side before entering the doorway with Liara. The lift doors were opened but the control panel was dark. There was no power. It was expected however. The only thing they had to do then was wait for the rest to arrive with the power cells to operate the lift.

"You are not thinking of bringing it back with us, are you?" Crossing her arms, Liara watched as Shepard returned to the entrance to examine the hovercycle.

"Seems like a waste to leave it here," she muttered, opening up the small hatch to the engine.

"Where could you take it to?"

"The mountain trails?" she said distractedly.

"So you could get your head smashed at some point?"

"It's not going to happen," she scoffed laughingly before she realised Liara was upset. "Why'd you think it would happen?" she was puzzled. Where did Liara get that idea from?

"You may think you are in control when you ride this hovercycle but in reality, you are dictated to by your whims."

"Come on Liara, that's not true," she shook her head skeptically before turning back to peruse the engines. A touch on her shoulder created an immediate link.

_You wanted to indulge yourself but you did not. Do you know why?_

_{Silence}_

_Because I am with you. Is it worth it to suffer pain, yours and mine, for some thrill of the moment?_

_Damn it, when you put it like that. _A sigh escaped her._ Let me think it over._

_All right. {pause} I think the others are here._

The whine of engines became louder before dying away as the trucks pulled up. Eye flaps moving up and down, Module got off the flatbed and planted itself before the hovercycle, seeming fascinated with the machine. Equally intrigued, Kedar joined it as Peliar hovered behind. Liara could see she wanted to ask what it was but chose to keep silent. Mind on their tasks, the marines offloaded the power cells and went to work on the lift.

"It is a fine construct," announced Module, after running scans of the vehicle.

"Impressive. Mobile and efficient in every way," nodded Kedar, busily taking readings with his omni-tool. "What is it?"

"It is a hovercyle," Module said. "I have seen a few almost like it travelling on the lower streets on Earth. They have wheels however. It is rare?" it directed the question to Shepard.

"It's a fuel guzzler," she clapped the hatch back on the engine. "Moderately expensive to manufacture and maintain. That's why most people back home use skycars than hovercycles. Even the H-cycles are cheaper."

"Hmmm... class indulgence," Kedar cocked his head. "Of no purpose then. Only to whet desires? Display of prowess? Ego endorsement?"

"Well, I suppose," Shepard winced uncomfortably, trying not to feel the amusement Liara was attempting to hide. None of the descriptives fit her, damn it. She only wanted to experience the joy of a high speed ride and the challenge of surmounting obstacles that presented themselves along a trail.

"Interesting it should be here," Kedar continued.

"I guess someone from the previous expedition had the money to spend. It's essentially build for speed and this place is ideal to let it rip."

"Let it rip?" questioned Kedar. Strange to use such a phrase on a vehicle.

"I believe that meant riding the hovercycle at maximum speed," offered Module helpfully. Clearly, it had learnt much during its tenure on Earth. Interest on the hovercycle died away when Foster reported the lift was in operation. Eagerly, Kedar headed through the entrance. Face inscrutable as ever, despite her curiosity about the hovercycle, Peliar followed. Once in the lift, Module elected to fold itself as it found the space constraint. Detailing half the squad to stay with the trucks, Shepard descended with the rest to the lower archives.


	22. Chapter 22

The mood of the group became sombre as the lift descended. Despite having seen the cryogenic pods lining the corridors above, the marines and researchers were not prepared for the sight that came into view; walls of pods. Mesmerised, they stood against the clear panels of the lift even as Shepard exchanged a glance with Liara, remembering how they had felt in their initial journey below. How apprehensive they were at the strange turn of events. That fear had turned to awe when they saw the lower archives for the first time and then horror and sympathy when they learnt what had happened to the Protheans. How daunting the task was that they faced, the implacable nature of the enemy they had to fight, it seemed victory was impossible before Vigil offered a ray of hope.

When the lift stopped and the doors opened, the terminal at the end of the passage was a familiar sight. Almost assuring. Feeling as if she had been transported back through time, Shepard exited the lift with Liara following closely behind, half wondering if the VI would somehow appear to them. Eye flaps wavering slightly, Module strode after them. After casting a critical eye at the pods, Kedar followed, leaving Peliar to dawdle, unable to take her eyes off the surroundings until one of the marines covering her, touched her gently on the arm when she failed to respond to his query. A disturbed look crossed her face for a moment before she joined the others at the silent terminal.

It was not Shepard's objective however. Various attempts to bring the terminal online had been tried by the previous expeditions and failed. Without main power, nothing in the facility could operate. When they themselves had passed through seven years ago, there had hardly been any time to explore; chasing down Saren had been the priority. Not so for the teams that came after, creating access ways and maps as they surveyed the depths of the archives. There was more to the passage than what she had seen previously. Moving past the terminal, she led the others to the ledge where they had an impressive and frightening view of the extent of the archives; wall to wall pods that stretched as wide as they could see and vanished deep down into the bowels of the earth. How many Protheans were there at the facility?

Never before in her life had Liara imagined she would see this. How excited and hopeful she had been at the discovery of Ilos then, that the Protheans had survived, much of that anticipation had turned to sorrow at Vigil's revelation that all were dead. Through necessity, the VI was forced to systematically turned off power to sections of the cryogenic pods to ensure the most important personnel survived. She had added her hypothesis that the foundation of the archives was built downwards, far below the scorching arid reach of the sun, in the report to the Council after the Battle of the Citadel. Hence, it was possible a permanent quasi colony could have been established on the planet with infrastructures to support it. Now, faced with the sight that greeted her eyes, she could hardly find the words to describe how she felt.

_Goddess, I should be pleased part of my hypothesis is correct._

Shaking her head, Shepard headed off to the side of the ledge to a stairway hidden by the thick grove of roots that spiralled from the upper levels down to the lower depths. To her eye, the stairs looked solid but she stamped hard on the first step to be sure. Not a wobble. It felt as sound as the day it was built. The long stairs slowly wound into the rock, bringing them down to a small dim lobby with four dark passages branching off into the far distance. A small silver plaque gleamed freshly above the doorway heading east. Left behind by the previous expedtions as a marker. The only passage they had explored thus far at this depth led to numerous smaller rooms whose functions were to load or retreive the cryogenic pods along the upper corridor. Other than that, there were no visible signs as to where the other corridors led to as all signage had long since vanished or unpowered.

"Module?" Shepard nodded to the Geth Prime who enabled its omni-tool as everyone gathered loosely in a circle. A hologram appeared, almost a facsimile to Javik except that it was muted in green. It turned around, scrutinising its immediate environs before focusing on Shepard, seeming to recognise her.

"Online. Current location unknown."

"Vendetta, do you have any records pertaining to Ilos?"

"This program does not have any relevent data to the appellation Ilos." The answer was not unexpected. Prior to transferring it over to Module, Hackett had run it through a gauntlet of queries in anticipation that it could provide some answers to the current crisis but apparently, Vendetta was programmed solely to warn and prepare the races of the next cycle against the Reapers. Still, it never hurt to ask again since no one had any idea how Protheans constructed their VIs nor what kind of proviso would trigger a positive response.

"What about schematics of bunkers?" she said even as she mentally formed up the next question. If Vendetta couldn't give them a starting point, they would have to randomly pick one of the passages and hope to get a break.

"Baseline diagrammatic is available."

Taken aback, she blurted in bemusement. "What?" That affirmation certainly did not conform with Admiral Hackett's report. Why did it answer as it did?

"Bunkers are divided into..." Vendetta began, its form reforming into a holographic map.

"Wait," interrupted Liara, equally mystified by the breakthrough. "Why did you fail to provide this information to the previous user?"

"Previous users did not meet prerequisite protocols to access classified materials of designated sanctuaries."

Running on a hunch, Shepard probed further. "Do I comply with those protocols?"

"You do. Alpha-hiero cadre recognised."

Alpha-hiero cadre what? Was she suddenly cast into some upper echelons in the social stratification of a long dead civilization? The precise dynamics of Prothean society was the least of her concerns, at the far bottom of a list really, given what Javik had let drop on the subjugation of races his people had deemed expedient to their various purposes. If there was any inclination to explore the complexity of it, it could be done at a later time. However, that was more Liara's turf, not hers.

"How did you recognise her?" the softly spoken question drew everyone's attention to Peliar who gazed intently at Vendetta.

"Memory imprint verified on beacon activation."

"Memory imprint?" Kedar echoed, eyelids drawn up as he looked curiously at Shepard.

"Transference of mental faculty is circumscribed within the Zgagis."

"Interesting as it is, that is not the purpose of our operation here," cut in Shepard, not willing to find out exactly what was Zgagis either. The vibe she was getting from Liara told a different tale though. Her bondmate's desire to investigate after the disclosure the Cipher could be more than just a simple perspective of a Prothean was strong. From the looks on Kedar and Peliar's faces, so did they, though they had no idea what Vendetta was referring to. She had no inclination to enlighten them and hoped Liara wouldn't bring it up "Vendetta, display structure of bunker and location of generator."

"Bunkers are divided into two strata. The lower layer comprised of command center, storage, personnel and cryogenic facilities. Weapons and defensive facilities occupied the upper layer. The power core is located beneath central."

"That's a funny place to put it," one of the marines muttered.

"Within those specifications, not the cryogenic pods," put in Kedar as he bent to peer closely at the displayed strutural map of a bunker.

"Probably because this isn't a typical Prothean bunker," crossing her arms, Shepard frowned at the map. "Are there any other bunker models? Subterranean."

"There are no currently no specifics for a subterranean bunker." The hologram changed to a different map. "Second paradigm, research bunker. No change to upper strata. Laboratories in the next strata with command centre below."

"What are those passages?" Liara pointed out the lines running beneath the facility, almost akin to the ones they were facing now.

"They connect to personnel division, freightage and testing ground."

"Which passage leads to personnel?" If there was a master plan for most Prothean facilities, Shepard was all for trying out the most viable choice. One of the passages lit up in response to her question. "Directional?"

"West," the map morphed back into Vendetta.

"Alright, we're heading that way," she said with finality, plucking the rifle from her back and checked all was in order and heard the rest of the squad doing the same.

"Program offline." Vendetta shut itself off once it determined it was not needed.

With no light filtering in from above, the passage was pitch black. Yawning mouths that invite the most prolific of imaginations to do its worst. Switching on the portable flashlight mounted on the rifle, Shepard led the group through. With another five lights, including Module's eye, there was plenty of illumination to chase any shadows away. Measuring four by three metres, the passage was uniform as far as she could see. Given how long it had taken for the Mako to traverse down the bunker, she suspected they were in for a long hike. _Nothing's ever easy._

* * *

**Hawking Eta**

Although a small system and largely unpopulated, Verr had its potential in that natural sources of ore that could be mined from its paltry neighbourhood of three planets. Built up only recently in 2183, developments in industrial expansion came to a halt when the Reapers arrived. Since then mining facilities lie dormant, vehicular traffic nonexistent and the automated fueling stations at Allusah shut down. Void of sentient activity, the planets continued on their eternal circumvolution around the burning star. Until something appeared suddenly.

Against the backdrop of ebony sprinkled with bright tiny lights, the Alliance frigate launched probes cautiously before making a systematic scan of every inch of space within the system. It took hours but the crew was patient and careful; the significance of their mission made them more vigilant in looking into every bit of incoming data. Hence, the underground radiation emanating from Corang was noted and investigated. It was then the inert shuttle around the orbit of the planet was picked out and the alarm sounded.

Matching the orbit of the shuttle, the frigate edged as close as possible before the hangar bay door opened. Towing cables attached to their belts, a small team propelled themselves towards the shuttle. Stretching out their hands as they neared, the magnetic pads on their gauntlets fastened to the metal skin of the shuttle and held them fast like leeches to skin. They slowly made their way to the cockpit, making sure they did not make any rap against the surface. After taking a cautious peep into the cockpit windows, the squad leader signalled to his men who quickly went to work. The cockpit was sealed off from the cargo compartment before it was detached, the towing cables were affixed and the cockpit was hauled into the hangar bay. There was only a single occupant within but then, they already knew that and prepared a reception accordingly.

* * *

**Thessia**

It was turning out to be an interesting simulation. Thus far, the unit was making a credible offensive stance against the commandos. Employing strategically placed probes and rocket drones that provided substantial fire power, the unit was forging and holding position in the ruin complex. What a difference it was, compared to the initial trial run. Part of it had to be the dressing down poured on Nyrine. Granted, Sanar herself was not present but she knew from the dark angry heavy clouds that hung over Nyrine in the aftermath that it must be so. Zelenia had not been pleased with Nyrine's objections to every recommendation Shepard had made and her insistence that the recruits were ready after the barest of discourses. That Zelenia had chosen to give her the benefit of the doubt was commendable. The end result only highlighted Nyrine's deficiency spectacularly.

And it showed rather unpleasantly. She was surprised Shepard had been so patient and tolerant. First in being overruled about methods of deployment, weaponry and additional support to having to tolerate Nyrine's barely concealed acrimony. However, she doubted Nyrine was laboring under the misconception that Shepard was easy to push around; she was trying to see how far she could go. Why Nyrine was doing so, she had yet to fathom. Watching the progress over the shoulder of a soldier manning the vid at the observation post, she thought it a pity Shepard was not there to see the improvements. The officer who took over was good but he had not bothered to try to build up a rapport with the trainees. Shepard had at least spoken to every member of the unit and there was mutual exchanges such that the trainees understood what she was aiming for.

What he did do when he arrived was to get Nyrine's hackles up by laying out exactly what he wanted done in a brusque manner. There was nothing like watching two alpha personalities clashed. The amount of burning fire in the room could have incinerated everything to ashes were it corporeal. That he succeeded in gaining complete control of the unit was another reason for Nyrine's off shade and why she was sitting at the observation post with her instead of commanding that same unit in the latest exercise.

The inscrutability on Nyrine's face gave her no clue what was she thinking of at the moment, bar that her eyes held no rage, only curiosity as she watched the unit's performance. Looking at the vid, the human was doing a credible job but the experienced commandos were picking off stragglers who had failed to keep up with every push into the complex and whoever was not alert enough to her surroundings. It was doubtful he could continue to push forward with the numbers he had left. As if aware of that, he halted the forward squads and appeared to be issuing orders.

"It's going well," she ventured, wondering if Nyrine was inclined to talk.

Nyrine cast a frosty look on her. "Perhaps."

"You don't think so?"

"There are different opinions."

"Whose?'

"Does it matter? There is little improvement."

Sanar wondered if Nyrine knew what she was saying. "How could that," she flicked a finger over her shoulder at the vid behind her, "be a little improvement? They overran two positions."

"And lost how many?"

"Acceptable losses."

"There is no such term as acceptable losses."

"To you, perhaps."

"Are you even one of us?"

Stumped, Sanar stared at Nyrine, feeling somehow they were not conversing on the same wavelength. There was a strange look to Nyrine's eyes, as if she was mentally elsewhere.

"Goddess!" the shocked exclamation from the soldier startled her.

Turning around, she saw nothing but the soldier's head blocking out the viewscreen. "What?"

"The human..," the soldier moved, a stun look on her face.

"What about the...," the words trailed off as she stared at the screen. "Goddess..."

* * *

**Ilos**

The energy bar tasted like home to her. Strange but true. Dry and tasteless to many, it was ambrosia to her. From the expressions of the rest though, their opinions differed, except for Kedar whose rations were different. Taking a sip from her bottle, she handed it to Liara who took a mouthful to wash down the last bite. Energy bars were no stranger to her bondmate either, having had them for quick meals during her archeological trips. Tipping her head back against the wall, she took another breath of the sweet air, glad to be free of the recycled pessure of her helmet. Liara leaned against her, glad for the rest.

_What do you think? {weariness}_

_Another half hour. If we don't come across anything new, we go back and come back tomorrow with some sort of transport._

_I do not believe for one moment the second expedition made their exploration on foot._

_Me either. I think we missed something up top._

_Shepard, what do you think Vendetta meant when it talked about memory imprint?_

_I really have no idea._

_It talked as if it meant the complete transference of memories was a common ritual among an elite group of Protheans._

_Did it? I just don't have any recollection of anything. Don't ask me how I know to decipher Prothean messages because I really don't understand it myself. It could be mistakening the Cipher for something else._

_Yes it could. {pause} There is another point to consider._

_What?_

_I do not think you can make an imprint of the Cipher on me, can you? You have no control over whatever it is._

_No, I don't think so. Shiala can transfer the Cipher to you if you want it._

_That is not the point. I think we should try to understand more about this Cipher._

_We have all the time to do it. {amusement} I think we should get moving, it's getting close to 16 hours._

Reading Liara's assent, she got up and got the group ready. There were no argument when she announced they would continue on for another half hour; everyone was tired. One of the marines collapsed the tent once everyone's properly suited up and folded it, hoisting it on his back along with the portable airfilter. The uniform blankness of the passage continued on and she was getting heartily tired of it. How she longed for the hovercycle. Perhaps that was why it was brought to Ilos, traversing the passage would be a breeze. Next time, she vowed, she would bring it down with them.

"Shaft," announced Module, stopping suddenly.

"Where?" she looked around as the rest stopped, perking up expectantly.

"In front of me," the Geth Prime looked this way and that before knocking the wall before it. Centuries of dust and grit fell off. It knocked more forcefully and that was when everyone heard the the hollow thud.

Hastily, she grasped Module's arm before it could bash again. "Wait, I see something," she traced the barely seen gap; the doors to a lift? A control panel should be nearby. Coming to the same conclusion, Module began to search and found one. The marine technician went to work, routing circuits and jacking in the portable power cell he was carrying. A faint hum could be heard before the doors opened. They piled in, more than eager to see the end of that long stretch of passage.

The markings on the panel in the lift gave her pause. Instead of a single marking, as there was in the lift that brought them down to Vigil's terminal, there were a few. Her fingers hovered uncertainly before something clicked in her head and she hit a marker before she even realised what she was hitting. _So where am I bringing us to?_ Frowning, she tried to make sense of that recognition that flashed to her head. Did it read personnel? Or something else? Silently, she berated herself, she should have think about it rather than hit instinctively. The lift descended for what seemed like the longest time. No doubt due to tensions rising within. Feeling her anxiety, Liara touched her arm.

_It will be all right. There is nothing alive in the facility._

_I know. I'm starting to feel less sure about that Cipher._

_I am sorry I brought it up._

_I would have thought about it sooner or later. But you're right {sigh} I hope we're heading in the right direction._

A slight vertigo passed through them as the lift slowed. When the doors opened, nobody moved.

_I think I made the wrong choice._


	23. Chapter 23

For a moment, images of the past imposed themselves before Shepard's eyes. The heartbreaking mounds along the hive corridors of the Collector ship, the ruins of London, the Citadel. Bereft of life, they had lain, like the garbage dumps in the slums. Putrid and rotten, the stench of those bodies on the Citadel seemed to float in her nostrils before the present asserted itself. The darkness beyond was encompassing, as if waiting to swallow up the small group. It was not the cause of their hesitation however. What held them fast was the sight of corpses, rows and rows on either side of the doors, as far as they could see in the small field of light cast by the flashlights mounted on the assault rifles.

"Why are they here?" one of the marines muttered from the back of the group, sounding strangely intimidated. Shepard couldn't blame him, the scene before them was chilling and unnnatural. Those who had once lived and worked in the Archives were supposed to be tucked away in their pods, not laid out in the open.

"Let's find out," she said, looking at the bodies nearest to the lift as she stepped out cautiously past the doors. Skeletal, with dried skin and dusty petrified clothing still clinging to them. From the shape of the head, the remains were undeniably Prothean or at least belonging to the master race. Why weren't they in cyrogenic pods? "Does the air have something to do with these bodies not turning into skeletons and disintegrating?" she eyed the sharp incisors of bared teeth uncovered by the dessication. Javik's was just as sharp, she recalled, it gave him a somewhat vampirish look. With such sharp dentition below four slightly slanted forward eyes, he was the epitome of the elite predator. Perhaps that was why the Protheans were able to build an empire fifty thousand years ago.

"Possibilties many," said Kedar on the other side, examining the data on his omni-tool as he knelt beside one of the bodies. Taking readings of her own, Peliar crouched down to take a closer look at the clothing. Assault rifles held easily in their hands, the marines stood away from the bodies but remained alert. The tech marine detached the portable cell and quickly stepped out of the lift but the doors remained open though the lights within dimmed before dying away. Module slowly tread down the only path between the bodies, taking in the scene. Shepard wondered what it was thinking.

Stepping carefully, Liara tilted her head, the visor of her helmet automatically switching visual modes to compensate for the lack of illumination. The ceiling was vaulted high, with what looked like murals running down the length of the room. Or was it hall? There was a feeling of immense space to the place. Not a single piece of furniture could be seen. If there had been any, they were probably removed to accomodate the bodies. How large the hall was, she had no idea but from the size of it, it was possibly an assembly hall that was turned into.. what? Making her way slowly down the path, she scrutinized at each body intently as she ran scans over them with her omni-tool.

Following close behind, Shepard wondered at the underlying feelings of grief that had been building ever since she stepped out of the lift. While she was upset to see such a sight, she should not be feeling that much sorrow and she wondered at the subtle tones of anger. The emotions didn't have Liara's flavour either. If neither of theirs, whose? _That's nuts. If the feeling's not yours, whose is it?_ Shaking her head to get rid of that thought, she firmly focused on the matter at hand.

"What do you make of this?" she said.

"I think this could be an assembly hall," without taking her eyes from the bodies, Liara paused to look more closely at the specimen before her. "There are easily hundreds in here."

"And they turned it into a mausoleum?" a shiver passed through Shepard as the image of the Citadel flashed before her again. "That's not making any sense."

"Look," Liara pointed to the corpse in front of them and the next. "There seems to be order and ceremonial purpose in the way they were laid out. The way the hands were placed. This one has hands crossed over the chest, the other has only one hand placed in the same position. The back rows all have the same arrangements."

"If they had the time to lay them out like this, why didn't they just buried them? It couldn't possibly be...," the shuffle of quick footsteps before Kedar hurried by distracted Shepard from what she was about to say. "What is it, Kedar?"

"Determine time of death, more readings needed," the Salarian said without pausing, stopping to take readings before jogging farther down the hall, followed by the marine assigned to watch his back. A smile twitched at her lips at his boundless energy and she frown when Peliar glided by like a ghost, pausing now and then, towing her satellite.

Turning back to Liara, Shepard picked up where she left off. "So the hand placements meant something?"

"It could be rank, or perhaps gender," resuming her observation, Liara moved further down the path. Body after body, it was the same. Who were they? Who had placed the bodies here? And why? So many questions and no one to provide the answer. If they could get Vigil online, perhaps it would provide some to the mystery.

"They're dressed differently from Javik," said Shepard. "Civilians?"

"It is possible, Javik was..." An excited shout interrupted her and they both looked up to see Kedar waving at them, with Module and Peliar standing nearby. What had gotten him so worked up? As they jogged towards him, Shepard noticed a large round door sealing off the end of the hall and wondered what other surprises lay beyond. More bodies? _Sure, why not? This place is practically a tomb to the fallen._

"Different, these are," Kedar waved at the bodies beneath his feet when they reached him. Looking at them, Shepard realized they did not have that distinctive oval flare around the head. Rather, they were round, humanoid like.

"Their hands," Liara was astonished, "are arranged differently and their clothing are less elaborate, much more simple."

"These could be the other races Javik spoke of," Shepard knew at once what Liara meant; the hands were resting at the waist and there were five fingers on each hand. "The ones the Protheans subjugated and absorbed into their empire."

"Never seen before, new species, yes," nodded Kedar eagerly, omni-tool flaring as he worked rapidly. Here was something he could hardly wait to investigate, an opportunityy of a new vista into the past. There was much he could uncover, perhaps new medical discoveries. "Also, approximate calculation from rate of decomposition," he took a deep breath, blinking for a moment as the others waited. "All died, at once."

"What?" one of the marines blurted before another quietly kicked him in the shin for speaking out of turn once too often.

"All of them died at the same time?" knitting her brows, Shepard tried to work out a plausible scenario. While Vigil had admitted to shutting down groups of pods, it had not said anything about any incident where Protheans were killed en masse anywhere else in the Archives, so did this happen before the place was shut down?

"Within the same period," Peliar nodded. "The manner of their deaths requires more indepth investigation."

"Which isn't the priority at the moment," Shepard said firmly, shaking her head when Peliar made as if to protest. "Let's move on," she strode to the round door, hearing Module's tread behind her. The Geth Prime had been silent all the while, but then archeology and medical deliberations were not its primary objectives. Placing a hand on the door, its head swivelled to scan the edge as the rest gathered behind it.

"Hemetically sealed," it said, searching for a control panel as Shepard cogitated on that piece of information.

"If control at central, cannot move forward," said Kedar without looking up from his omni-tool as he took yet another scan of the corpses.

"There has to be an emergency lock somewhere," looking on either side of the door, Shepard started for the right wall. "Liara, you check the left."

Stepping carefully in the small spaces between each corpse, she scrutinised the wall minutely, feeling the smoothness of it as she ran her gauntleted hand along. Something pricked at the back of her mind when she was halfway to the end even as her hand detected the slight depression and pressed down.

"I found it," she called as a section of wall slide aside to reveal a dark screen. "Get that portable cell over here," she called to the tech marine who jumped to immediately. "Careful," she said sharply when he stumbled, nearly falling headlong onto the bodies. _Stay there._ Frowning in concentration, she thought at Liara who was about to follow and was gratified when she halted. _I guess it really work the way she said it does._ Neither noticed the interest in Peliar as she glanced from her to Liara.

"Sorry, sir," the tech said when he reached her and went to work.

_Oh great, now what._ Resisting the urge to clap a hand to her head, she stared at the haptic-like displays that sprang to life after a few minutes and felt somewhat foolish, ignoring the gaze of the tech behind her, clearly expecting her to do something. For a moment, the hieroglyphics meant nothing to her before her vision blurred before clearing.

**Containment complete. Emergency vent complete.**

A chill streaked through her and her throat went dry at the implications.

"Shepard, what is it?" clearly feeling her distrait, Liara took a step forward, intending to join her.

"Stay there," rasped Shepard, lifting hands that felt heavy and reached for the keys. No longer knowing what she was doing, she let whatever it was that had guided her before direct her fingers.

**Emergency protocols cancelled. **

**Unable to reestablish optimum environmental levels. **

**Disconnection at central. **

**Input required.**

The requirement for a code didn't faze her, her hands moved smoothly without hesitation.

**Identity confirmed. Irzik Pythan, First Order.**

_Who?_ A hiss from the round door distracted her. A series of metallic clanking resounded as unseen bolts withdrew. The door seemed to lift slightly before rolling aside. There was not a sound from the group standing at the doorway. With the tech behind her, she made her way back to them and saw at once why.

Unlike the bodies in the hall, the ones beyond lay haphazardly. As if caught by surprise when death overtook them. Several were piled at the doorway, arms and hands outstretched, as if clawing in vain at the door or imploring for help. Several were curled up, others lay prone, a few looked like they were caught in the midst of fighting. One in particular, caught her eye. It was crouched down, leaning against the far wall, hands on its bent head, as if in despair. Beyond any doubt, they had not gone peacefully.

"I think ... we should call it," she said, allowing weariness to swamp her.

* * *

**Thessia**

"Do you know what kind of mess we are in?"

"I'm sorry, I went over the vids, there is nothing that clearly defined what had happened at the site," Nyrine said woodenly, staring at a spot between a glaring Zelenia and the desk. Behind her, Sanar kept her peace and wondered how long Nyrine was going to keep up with her obdurate responses. Couldn't she see Zelenia was on the verge of an explosion? For the umpteenth time, she wondered at the motivations behind Nyrine's behaviour.

"It is most convenient that the vidcorder for that zone went offline, don't you think?"

"I do not know it is a convenience."

"Captain Rylaer!" For a moment, Sanar wondered if Zelenia was going to throw Nyrine up against the wall as her biotics flared, turning her sky blue eyes silvery. It was rare to see a matriach of Zelenia's rank lose her cool and she was not sure she ought not to get herself out of that room. With years of experience at their fingertips, most matriachs were at the pinnacle of their chosen avocation. Those who served in the military were said to be the most formidable and most dangerous. Though she had never heard of anyone getting flattened for crossing an Izharia, Nyrine was bidding fair to be the first one.

As quickly as the biotics was triggered, it died down just as fast. "You are dismissed, captain. From now on, Lt T'Enaire will assume responsibilities for the academy."

Without a word, Nyrine turned and Sanar saw the brewing fury in her eyes as she walked past. For once, she wished she had known Nyrine better but they were both from different republics and did not cross each other's paths until after the Reaper War when they were assigned to aid Zelenia oversee the newly setup academy. From the onstart, Nyrine had been somewhat approachable, though she offered little information about herself but she had at least been affable to training suggestions. Right up until Shepard arrived on the scene which coincidentally, was when the news broke about the proposed campaign. So which of the two did Nyrine most object to? Or was it both? Her musings vanished when Zelenia spoke.

"The Alliance is sending a team to investigate the incident. I want you to aid them in every way you can."

"It will be difficult," she offered tentatively. "With no actual footage to see the chain of events, the only line of investigation is the unit that participated in the exercise. And they are not really saying much to cast any light on what happened."

"I've yet to see a criminal commit the perfect crime. To create mischief of this magnitude, there is a trail," ice dripped in Zelenia's tone. "Wring them dry. With every means you have."

"I understand," she dipped her head in acknowledgement, inwardly shaken by that directive. Did Zelenia really want her to go that far? "I suppose we should be glad it was not Shepard."

"Goddess," closing her eyes, Zelenia rubbed at her brow. "I dare not imagine the backlash if it were her. Everyone else would be out for our blood, not just the Alliance."

"Would the projected dateline for the campaign remain the same?"

At that reminder, a stubborn glint lit Zelenia's eyes. "Yes, there is no change. I will not allow the foolishness of a few to remove the future we have been striving for."

"Yes, Zelenia," Sanar couldn't agree more. "If there is nothing else?"

"Sanar," Zelenia added before she could withdraw. "Goddess watch over you."

"Goddess watch over us all, Izharia Vantios."

* * *

**Ilos**

The trek back was moody and bleak. No one said anything, from since that round door opened. Looking visibly off shade and ill, Peliar had turned away, unable to take any more of the sight. Even Kedar ceased all his incessant scanning and his footsteps were plodding and slow. The ride back to the lift platform at the trench on the hovercycle failed to lift Shepard's spirits though Liara made no objections to riding the vehicle, too distracted with what they had discovered below in the Archives. Observing the pall over everyone, Module shunted the questions it would have voiced to a holding sector and instead worked at the map of the archives.

The lights within the decontamination chamber seemed too bright. Closing her eyes, Liara tried to push the images away. Coming across dead bodies were the run of the mill in her line of work and in her forays with the squad from since Saren to the Reaper War. But she had yet to come across deaths that were so starkly despairing and unwilling up close in such numbers. She was not sure she wanted to go back down there. _I'm just tired. A rest would be good._ She hoped. Her mood picked up when the VI announced the cycle was completed.

With sighs of relief, the group removed helmets and breather masks once they were allowed through to the corridor of the dwelling. The marines trudged off to a well deserved rest with Peliar not far behind. Hesitating for a moment, Kedar shook his head and chose to follow. Module elected to get itself to operations. Checking the chronometer on her omni-tool, Shepard realized they had been away for almost eight hours since they landed. She caught hold of Liara as she leaned against her.

_Come on love, let's get you to bed._

"Captain?" came an unwanted voice behind them.

Biting off an expletive, Shepard took a moment to rein in her tiredness before she snapped at Ulros and looked over shoulder. "Yes, lieutenant?"

"Priority message from Captain Dorrin, " he said apologetically, wishing he could hold off the missive for he could see they were tired. "Your presence is requested onboard the Glasgow. A shuttle is already primed."

_Great. Just great. {exasperation}_

_I am coming with you._

_Bad idea, you're exhausted._

_So are you. Let us just go, we can rest on the shuttle._

_Alright. {reluctance} I don't have the energy to argue anyway._

"Fine. Inform captain Dorrin we're on our way," she waved aside whatever else Ulros was about to say and latched on her helmet, made sure Liara's had her helmet on before stomping for the other exit. Impatience built within as they cycled once more through decom and then out to the shuttle. Ulros must have warned the pilot to be on the mark because hardly had she sat down on the seat that the shuttle was already lifting off.

Blanking her mind, she leaned back. Thinking was just too much work. At the moment, she did not want to think and just want to feel Liara's comforting presence beside her. Knowing Liara was in empathy, she chose to share images of a planet whose name she could not remember. Fields of flowers, golden ripen crop spread across farmlands, waiting to be harvested. White sands along blue waters, blue sky, with creatures flitting about in the wind, bright frills scintillating in the sunlight.

_That is beautiful. {peaceful sigh}_

_Yeah, sure would love to go to the beach someday with you. [picture of a naked Liara lolling on the sand, her only attire a pair of sunglasses perched on her nose]_

_Benezia would sometimes bring me to the shores of Drisa but she did not give me sunglasses. {amusement}_

_Damn, not the reaction I was looking for. {disappointment}_

_What? {puzzlement} Oh {laughter} Shepard, you are forgetting Asari have no inhibition against nudity. At least, on Thessia, among the inner circles._

_Well I guess I have to chuck out alot of jokes where Asari are concerned._

_Do share._

_I'd better not. They're mostly oriented on earthy women actually._

_I am not earthy. {pout}_

_You're not earthy. {agreement} You're a goddess. {reverently}_

_Ouch!_

Forgetting they had helmets on, Shepard knocked into her bondmate instead of kissing her as she intended. Both dissolved into laughter. which grew slightly hsyterical and they felt the better for it, for it relieved them of the dark moods. As it was, they were in a lighter frame of mind when they reached the Glasgow and were directed to Dorrin's cabin instead of CIC. Glad to free their faces to breathable air, they took their time to get to the upper decks.

"So how did it go?" was Dorrin's question once he admitted them into the room. Bigger than the usual officer's billet but less luxuriously outfiited than the cabin on the Normandy.

Exchanging a glance with Liara, Shepard decided revelations could be put off at a later date. They had not afterall, discovered their objective. "As well as can be," she said. "So what's the big news you have to share? You called us here instead of CIC."

"Six hours ago, one of the frigates from the 71st picked up an anomalous reading from Corang in Verr System. An unpowered shuttle was recovered from orbit around the planet. There was one lone human onboard."

Was he going to drop the other shoe or not? "And?" Shepard said impatiently when he hesitated. "Is he Cerberus?"

"He's wearing Cerberus armor but..," again that hesitation.

"Come on, Dorrin, spit it out," Shepard sighed. "I've had a long day."

"Well, I guess this will just about cap it," he hit a key on the console on his desk and turned it around so they could look at the screen.

The man's face was pale and waxy, rivulets of sweat running down from a close cropped head, his eyes were closed and his bare teeth clenched, his mouth opened to roar something. Since the sound was disabled, they had no idea what he was shouting.

"He looks sick," observed Liara.

"He is," Dorrin never took his eyes off Shepard. "Do you recognise him?"

"Should I?" Shepard was not sure what Dorrin was trying to tell her although admitedly, the man did look somewhat familiar. A memory nudged.

"Try," he said without humour and watched as Shepard bent, concentrating intensely. Nose, mouth, forehead, chin. The man's eyes opened and she remembered.

"Shit!"


	24. Chapter 24

Twenty down, a hundred and eighty to go. Resisting the temptation to rest her head in her hands, she dismissed her assistants. Only when the last of them exited through the door did she finally relaxed and rest against the back of her chair. Perhaps sifting through logistics would have been the better place to start. Running through acquisition, storage, maintenance, disposition of every item, from personel to hardware might be easier but she had chosen to deal with the recruits on the premise that memories would be fresher than they would days later. Unfortunately, all twenty apparently had their attention focused elsewhere than their CO. It was doubtful the rest would have anything meaningful to contribute since they were not the advance squads.

So where should she go from here? Picking up one of the datapads before her, she perused the report on the artifact found on the Alliance officer's armor; a target tracer. Restricted and regulated, it was often used by commandos in clandestine missions, a favourite security gadget to track suspicious individuals and an assassination tool. There was no manufacturing mark on it, the framework did not even match factory-made stock and was most likely fabricated by hand, according to the technicians. Unlike most tracers, this one had only one basic function. One was all that was needed, out of that lot of Asari, there was only ever the one human. In one finding were the techs absolute, whoever had created the tracer was Asari.

Which led to the next problem. The tiny trace amounts of cells left behind in the circuitry was just enough to identify it as Asari. As to whom, there was no identification in current archives. With centuries of precious data, census and all, destroyed in the Reaper War, whatever there was in the archives at the moment was contemporary with no surety that they were foolproof. The war had provided the means for a fresh start for those in need of it. So where was she to go from here? Hard as it was, it was difficult not to pick Nyrine as the prime suspect. Though not the lone voice among the Asari with reservations about the TI, still, she was the most vocal. Too conspicuous, she decided. Still, Nyrine could not be ruled out.

Heaving a sigh, she collected the datapads and put them away in a small carryall. Further investigations would have to be put off on the morrow, right then, it was getting late. Four hours before the chronometer marked a new day. She was dreadfully tired and hungry. The corridors were empty when she left the room. The academy was under lockdown during the night, pending the investigation, the curfew would only be lifted once it was completed. As it was, the trainees were confined to their domitory and no one except senior officers was at liberty to wander. Deciding to forego a shower and a change of clothing, she made her way to the entrance, stifling a yawn as she did so. Using her omni-tool, she placed a call for a cab, wishing that she still had her skycar. But in such times, one just had to go without certain luxuries.

While waiting, she placed a call to a favourite diner, hoping they would have empty seats. To her disappointment, there was none. Not in the mood for company, she declined the suggestion of a mingle and searching through the list of restaurants, she picked one which had dishes she liked. Just as she placed a reservation, the cab arrived. Resisting the urge to put it on manual, she keyed in the destination and sat back. As it sped through the city, the bright lights below shimmered on the windscreen, with shadows forming and dancing as headlights of other skycars in the fast lane overtook hers. Blanking her mind, she watched the shadows at play and was dropping off to sleep when a bleep from the car console woke her.

When she stepped from the skycar, she realised her oversight in not checking out which establishment she was heading to. Relying on an empty stomach as a pathfinder to good food was a bad idea, especially if the eatery in question was on the fancy side. Though not to the scale of the finest and famous eateries that were the rage pre-Reaper War, it was considered one of the best on Thessia. For a moment, she debated with herself before stepping firmly to the entrance; she could afford to indulge herself, and spoke softly to the hostess who appeared when her intent was clear.

As she followed the hostess down a narrow corridor that bypassed the main aisle, the strains of a musical ensemble floated in the air. Through the gaps of the braiding Airetsi encouraged to swirl along and around the alcoves that were spread across the floor of the restaurant before flaring over the ceiling, she could see the quartet of musicians in the performance bower, the magic of their wind instruments infusing a light lilting tranquility in the atmosphere which was obviously enchanting the diners, judging by the number of heads turned in that direction. That alone was enough to warrant the high marks for the restaurant for it was obvious the skills of the musicians was of the first rank. Would the food be just as good?

The hostess led her at a corner alcove and left after adjusting the height of the table to her liking and shifting the bouquet of Casor that was blooming beautifully in hues of blues, reds and cream in the light of the small table lamp, to face inward, thus ensuring the privacy that she requested. Shoving her carryall under the cushions, she leaned back into the floor couch, reveling at being able to relax as she perused the menu datapad. Too many courses was to much and she carefully made her choice for a single before closing her eyes for a moment to let the music fill her.

The tempo changed, replacing the lilt to one of warmth. Slow and passionate. A soft laugh drew her attention. Looking across from her alcove, she could see a couple, seated in another private alcove, with heads bent towards each other, murmuring words she could not hear. The sight reminded her of another duo. The morning after that drinking bet with Shepard, she had found herself in a strange bed with an irate Asari, who introduced herself as the housekeeper for the T'Soni estate, standing over her who did not mince her words to let her know she was in bad colour for having gotten Shepard reeling home drunk. That was news to her, she thought it was the other way around. Nevertheless, she had offered her apologies and was directed to the dining room after cleaning herself up.

She had stood at the doorway of the dining room, watching silently. They were both standing, looking out of the window, with Shepard resting her chin on her bondmate's shoulder, enfolding her within her arms from behind. From what she could see of of their little caresses, the smiles, the gentle hand on Shepard's face, she knew they were communing through their bond. And she was envious. Liara T'Soni was just beginning the second century of her maiden cycle but already she had reached the level of maturity that few maidens ever achieved. A level where most matrons would begin to have the desire to form deeper attachments. As she herself had thought she would but as yet, she had not found anyone with whom she could bond with. When she made a noise to announce her presence, they merely looked towards the door and she was totally disarmed by their warm welcome, their ease with each other. How should she describe it? She was not sure she could.

_Goddess, I'm so so ... jealous._

No. That wasn't right either. In truth, she felt lonely. For companionship. For that one person with whom she could share her entire being with. She wondered if she was inadequate. _Sanar you fool. It is different for everyone. The harder you look, the worst it'll be. I can only hope I would find that kind of bond they have with each other._

The arrival of the waitress with her food was sufficient to draw her away from her moody introspection. The sorgei, fresh vegetables in spicy sauce mixed with slivers of fish and grain, was a delight to the taste buds. It was followed by a variety of sweet and tart fruits delicately sprinkled with dried petals of casor. Replete, she sipped at the glass of water she had chosen instead of the few wines that were available, she had no desire to cut her teeth on liqueur that was a year old. Well pleased she would end the night with a fine meal, she stretched lazily, basking in the warm lassitude of contentment of the moment.

It took a while for her to comprehend that the music had changed to a woman crooning a slow song. Who was it? Picking up the menu datapad, she checked the list of entertainment programs but found no singer listed. Probably a recorded audio but she shifted to the edge of the Airetsi that formed the wall of the alcove she was in and peered out. The performance bower was empty. Disappointed, she ran her eyes over the other diners. Not that she could see much of them, illumination was kept to the bare minimum with the Airetsi providing separation and decoration. In a few months, the twinning plant would bloom, further enhancing the ambience. Perhaps she ought to return here then, to savour the flowers.

As she was about to turn away to settle into the cushions, a couple of Asari passed by. Her spine stiffened as she recognised Nyrine. Or thought she did. Frowning, she looked out and drew back just as quick when they paused to speak to the hostess who was walking towards them. It looked like Nyrine but what was she doing here? _Stop it, Sanar, she came here for a meal too._ But who's the Asari with her? Suspicions about Nyrine came floating to the fore. Vainly, she tried to push them away but failed. Plainly, unless her curiosity was satisfied, she would be nibbling at it for what remained of the night. Coming to a quick decision, she thrust her hand under the cushions to grab her carryall, took another peek and exited her alcove.

She reached the entrance just as Nyrine and her companion vanished through the doorway. The hostess who had just seen them out turned to her. Keeping it short, she assured her that the meal was perfection even as she swiped her credit chit under the payment scanner and walked out once the bill was settled. Glancing left and right, she spotted them strolling away to the parking lot and followed after cautiously, keeping to the shadows of trees. At this late hour, there was no one to observe her strange behaviour so no alarm was raised.

As the street lights shone on them, Nyrine would glance at her companion now and then as she chatted, further confirming her identity. What caught Sanar's attention was how relaxed she was, there was none of that inflexible carriage often associated with her. Her companion did not turn her head and Sanar wished she would, at least before they reached the parked skycars they were obviously heading for. Once ascertained of which skycar was their target, she darted from tree to tree and around bushes so she would have a better view of the other Asari.

Peering out from behind a tree, she could see that the Asari was older than Nyrine. A matriach? Who? The pair got into the skycar and left, leaving her to rue the lack of a skycar of her own; there was no way she could track them in a cab. As she stood there, staring after the vehicle, racking her mind as to who the matriach could have been, for she found her somewhat familiar, something prickled along her spine. Instincts took over and she rolled to the side just as a biotic throw blasted against the tree she was standing against. As she got to her feet, a body slammed into hers and she bounced off a tree, hard, before she fell to the ground, gasping as her lungs emptied and her vision whirled.

An arm infused with biotics rose and she kicked out, rolling to her feet, gulping in much needed air even as she struck out, seeing clearly her assailant for the first time. Her opponent was an Asari dressed in armor. A fact which her subconscious filed away, just as the way she was attacked was noted. A mercenary or a commando? The blow she struck did not contain much of her usual strength, winded as she was and it was brushed aside easily. Hastily, she parried a thrust heading for her chest, dodged to the side to swipe at the legs of the Asari with her own. The Asari leapt and threw another blast at her, which she again escaped.

A grin lit up the Asari's face, plainly, she was enjoying the duel. However, she was not. Ducking another strike, she pivoted and felt a grim satisfaction as her elbow jabbed painfully into the Asari's back and tried again for her legs. The Asari fell, onto her and they grappled, struggling to get ascendency. A hard jab in her middle left her winded, enough to loosen her hold on the Asari's arms. A hard hand snapped closed around her throat and she tried to generate a field to throw off the Asari weighing her down. As if reading her intention, the hand tightened, closing off the air. Vainly, she grabbed hold of the arm but was unable to prise it off. Defiantly, she tried to throw a uppercut to the Asari's chin but it was brushed aside. The pressure increased around her throat. As darkness overwhelmed her, she stared back at the Asari, whose wine-coloured eyes regarded her with a curious light. Was that respect? And her world darkened.

* * *

**Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System, Urdak**

"If you have to stammer, I would advise you to do it elsewhere."

Sim Retok froze, the cool threat was enough to dry up whatever words he was trying to say and he coughed, as sudden phelgm collected in his throat. The steel glare from the purple hued Asari lounging in the armchair dared him to continue, assuring him that it would likely be the last action he would be able to take. Wilting, he stood there, wondering if he would make it out the door if he made a break for it. It was a fancy, no more, not with the mixture of human, Turian and Batarian mercenaries in the room who could easily gun him down before he could even take a step.

Watching him, Aria T'Loak marvelled that she hadn't blasted the human into smithereens. Such sorry specimens would never have stepped a metre anywhere in Afterlife, much less near enough for her to smell. But that was glory days before the Reaper War, before Cerberus. Now, she had to put up with the surviving riffraffs from those gangs that had opted to fight than to hide. The brave had died, leaving behind their sycophants whose only skill was lip service. Like hapless moths, they had fluttered about before finally finding a haven. Her old haven.

"Well?" she snapped, eyes narrowing as he jumped.

Taking a deep breath, he tried again. "I need more men to crew the freighters." Relief swamped him as he managed the sentence without a trace of a stammer. Wiping his sweating brow with a grungy sleeve, he rubbed his nose with a grey-black hand before he realised she had not said a word, only stared at him. With even more impatience. "I know I said I would have the warning buoys placed in another two weeks but some of my men have disappeared, I don't know where they went," he said in a desperate rush, eyeing the nearest Turian who was running his fingers along the barrel of his shotgun.

"Perhaps their disappearance have something to do with that reek coming off you," the Turian snarled, eliciting chuckles around the room.

The disdainful insult was ignored, he kept his eyes on Aria, knowing his life was hanging on her next word.

"Your tardiness can be discussed another time," she said, "because I want you to drop the buoys elsewhere in the next two days." There was no sound from the human, he only blinked at her. "The Black Gate."

There was a stir in the room but no one ventured to ask for the reason.

"Only the Black Gate?" he queried, hardly believing his luck when she nodded regally. "I'll get to it at once!"

With that, he turned and left, forgetting that he was supposed to wait her permission. It suited her just fine to have him leave, the odour was beginning to get to her. There was a perceptible cool freshness to the room; someone had taken upon himself to increase the ventilation. If only it was just as easy to blow away the remnants of her hated adversary. Silently, she brooded.

Outsmarted by the Illusive Man, she was forced to abandon Omega and retreated to the Citadel, biding her time to gather the forces she needed to get back her turf. Before she could set in motion her plans, the Reapers arrived. Although not as skeptical as many others to the claims made by Shepard about the impending invasion years ago, she had to revise her assessment of the situation once assured that the synthetics had actually arrived. The forces she would have used to retake Omega were redirected to aid Shepard in the war against the Reapers, Cerberus she hated but the behemoth synthetics were obviously the immediate danger. The terrifying avatars of a cataclysm that the odds of the galactic community surviving through it was practically nil. And yet again, Shepard had proven her wrong.

It was fortunate her network on the Citadel gave her enough warning to leave before the Reapers arrived to take over the station. Not that her sources actually knew they were coming but that so many of her agents were vanishing. That was enough to tilt her inner senses to screaming point and she opted to leave, but not before sending a warning to Tevos, knowing that the rare message from her was implicit enough. Her next destination had been a problem before she went for the most outlandish choice. Some would have said she was crazy but it was the only safe option. Others would agree.

So she had quietly sent scouting parties to one of the moons around Urdak, where she had a subterranean hideout. One of many scattered in several systems. Prepared the moment she took over Omega, she had followed the examples as many other crime bosses; build safe houses and stockpile. Urdak was next door to Omega, now the exclusive property of Cerberus. All the better for her to lay quiet and keep an eye on the station. If there was any attack from the Reapers, Cerberus would be their target.

That was until she learnt from Shepard that the Illusive Man had thrown in his lot with the Reapers. Lunacy. She'd never thought he would take that step. Still, it was a pleasure to know his arrogance, cupidity and bigotry led to his downfall. That had cut down her self-imposed missions to half. What joy it had been to send parties to take control of the lay over stations at Imogan and shift her operations from her hideout. However, taking over Omega was no easy task.

When Cerberus had taken over the station, many of the inhabitants who could, fled. Knowing of the experiments Cerberus had conducted on sentients, once again she had Shepard to thank for that, she was under no illusion as to what could have happened to those who didn't escape. Her fears were borne out when her first boarding party was cut down before they had even taken many steps past the airlock. No more were sent. She could ill afford to lose the men she had at the moment. There was no one she could call upon to aid her. None that would be interested in a share of Omega. Not when it went without saying that there was a high possibility of TI and dangerous unknowns within Omega. To clear a station of that size, layered with districts, factories, apartments and all kinds of warrens, she would need an army. Or something else.

As it was, she had chosen to build up her forces, inject as much impetus as possible to revive the galactic market, seeded her spies around, secured as much of the Sahrabarik system as she could and wait. For she knew the Allied powers were extremely worried over recent developments. Sooner or later, their focus would shift from their backyard to Omega and she planned to have the largest stake in her claim.

Getting up from the armchair, she moved to stand at the windows, staring comtemplatively at the stars.

_I wonder if she could pull off another miracle once again and end this senseless conflict._

* * *

**Local Cluster, Unknown Location**

Such a small chip. She held the plastic slide up to the light. Tiny but deadly. Morale busting if the victim knew he was carrying it. What had they felt when they lost control of their bodies to commit acts of murder and terrorism? Terror? Kind of late to start thinking about it. But wondered she did now, looking at the chip she could not see with the naked eye. How blithely she had accepted that they were necessary. An essential part to the grand scheme of furthering and consolidating human interests in the galactic community. How absolute her convictions were. Granted, she did not use any of the chips in the projects she had handled, but that did not entirely absolve her.

Putting the slide under the macro scanner, she examined the chip before comparing it to data she had loaded on the console on the desk. The design was vastly different. More organic was how she would have described it. The older chip schematics was clunky in comparison but safely dull and mechanic. The new chip boasted of nano circuitry she had never seen before, there were strange organic like extending filaments. As if they were meant to grapple or grow within. A shiver ran through her as she remembered the surgery that was conducted on a Cerberus corpse. The eyes were unnervingly nonhuman, there did not seem to be any cornea or iris. Much like the husks deployed by the Geth Heretics.

What was worst was the dispersion of strange filaments from the chip, branching out within the cellular structure of the brain. Frowning, she wondered if it was the same process through which Reapers produced their advanced husks; nano-machines using the body's resources in the process of conversion. But in Cerberus troops, somehow the process was changed and twisted. Perhaps the type and rate of modification was controlled by the chip. Which maniac came up with this innovation? Rubbing her brow, she could only think of one person. Thankfully, he was well and truly dead, she had made sure of that. Or if it wasn't him, she hoped the chip's creator was dead and rotting.

"Miss Lawson, call for you in the comm room," one of the researchers in the room murmured over her shoulder.

The interruption was timely, she needed a moment of distraction. Stretching a stiff back, she closed down the console and locked the slide securely in the laboratory safe before strolling out of the room and down a crowded long corridor. At no time at all were the facility empty for there were armed marines standing watchfully at every corner and every door, their gaze flick from person to person using the corridors. Ubiquity security scanners lent their "eyes" as well. The overblown security was stifling, she doubted a microbe would even have the chance of escaping from the research base.

Up to the comm room, she marched, trying not to roll her eyes as she was scanned for the umpteenth time before the door opened. Not surprisingly, an Alliance officer awaited her arrival, she hoped he would not ask for her secure pass for she could rattle off every number and letter asleep.

"Miss Lawson," he nodded to her. "I'm Captain Dorrin."

"Captain," she nearly sighed with relief at his simple greeting. "How can I be of assistance?"

"I'll cut to the chase, Miss Lawson. I'm sending you medical data taken from a prisoner." A holographic image of a brain sprang to life beside him, with rows of data. "Of outmost interest is this particular artifact found imbedded in his brain." The image enlarged and the pallium highlighted, it was further enhanced and she found herself looking at a chip. An old one. "What can you tell us?"

"It's definitely a control chip," she activated her omni-tool, scrolling down the data she called up. "Series CE2 that was used between 2176 to 2178. These chips are usually programmed with a more simplistic set of definitions."

"Can you define?"

"Subjects were not members of Cerberus but selected gambits who worked within targeted organization. They were implanted without consent or knowledge that such an operation ever took place," she couldn't read the captain's face but thought he looked frosty. "Their primary objective was to send data or activate a planned chain of events."

"What happens to them after the objective is achieved?"

"They were usually eliminated..," looking at the image, she frowned. "But this one..."

"He's alive," Dorrin glanced to one side; obviously someone was trying to get his attention. "So if his objective was already achieved, could he be programmed with new ones?"

"Yes but then again, this chip did not have the type of flexible advancement in the latter series."

"Thank you, Miss Lawson. I'll advise you of further developments," he said and abruptly ended the call, leaving her to wonder what emergency had cropped up at his end and a huge question.

Who was the prisoner?


	25. Chapter 25

_Whirl. Shuffle. A soft thump. The hands moved smoothly, weaving and riffling the cards like a professional card dealer. Flip. Whirl. Chair tilted slightly, boots on the table, she paid not the slightest attention to the activity, eyes fixed to the datapad held in her lap._

_"Greenies are always the hardest to break in."_

_Flip. Flip. Flip. Whirl._

_"They come in straight with two left feet, never knew right from left, top or bottom." The cards were cut and reshuffled before one was laid face down on the table. "Heck, they never know when to talk and when to shut up." Another card was laid down. "Always trying to buddy, butting in when they're not wanted." A third card lay beside its fellows, followed by a fourth and a fifth._

_"Mmmhmm," she murmured softly, not looking up from her reading. The other paused for a moment._

_"They're good for a free drink at least."_

_"Not looking up your six?"_

_"Ha! That's reserved," the deck of cards was dropped on the table. "For the vets. I'd rather fresh face present his hook nose upfront whenever we go out, just so he gets maul instead of us."_

_"Planning to live forever, are you?"_

_"You betcha. I plan to retire, collect my pension," a deep inhalation of air before it was expelled gustily, "and spend the rest of my days exploring the galaxy on luxury cruisers!"_

_"That sounds inspiring," grinning, she finally looked up, dropped her booted feet from the table to the floor with the chair hitting the deck with a thump and reached for the cards in a lithe motion. "Let's see your hand." The cards were flipped over._

_"Blow me," delighted laughter as hands were raised high, fingers clicking in celebration. "Five cards of the same suit!"_

_"A royal flush," she shook her head in disbelief. "Looks like you'll get that luxury cruise after all."_

_"You bet!" laughing brown eyes met blue. A toothy grin flashing in a nut brown face, full of zest and confidence._

_You bet. You bet._

The voice seemed to ring in her ears. Startled, she opened her eyes. Erial. The head tucked into the curve of her neck, the soft breaths and the weight against the length of her body reminded her of where she was. Sighing, she tried to relax for she knew Liara was very tired and had no wish to disturb her. Closing her eyes, she blanked her mind but the image stubbornly stayed with her. After several minutes, she gave up the attempt as hopeless and gently extricated herself from her bondmate's clasp. A small inaudible protest was all that Liara made but she didn't wake and continued to slumber. Straightening the blanket to cover her properly, Shepard sat up, shivering when her bare feet met the cold deck.

Looking at the chronometer on her omni-tool, she saw she had slept six hours. Deep of the night on Ilos, a few hours before the day shift on the Glasgow. Rubbing a hand over her face, she made her way to the head and took a quick shower before checking the armor sanitizer had run through the cycle. Removing Liara's armorsuit, she hooked hers in the cleanser, making sure the tubes were connected properly before starting it up for another cycle. She grabbed her cleaned underwear and socks from the washer. With their duffel down on Ilos, she had to make do with a pair of borrowed pants and shirt from a crewman. It was a little baggy around the seat and hips but just the right length for her legs. Socks, boots. Quietly, she left the cabin and took the lift down to the wardroom.

It was mostly empty, saved for a couple of off duty officers seated at the small bar. A quick pass along the mid-ration table garnered a small bowl of salad and a cup of coffee which she brought to a corner table by a pot of Peace Lily. The lettuce and tomatoes were a little wilted but the carrots, black beans and grated cheese more than made up for it. A ghostly hand reached for the carrots, poking to form the sticks into a pattern, laughter. Her appetite fled. Sighing, she took a sip of coffee and grimaced, she had forgotten the sugar and cream. Pushing the cup aside, she speared the beans sullenly, wishing the Illusive Man was still alive because then, she could flay the skin off him. Slowly.

_Damn him. I hope he's suffering wherever he is right now._

The beans were spared prolong impalement when her omni-tool bleeped softly. Frowning, she forced herself to finish up the rest of the salad after perusing the message. Why did Dorrin want her at medbay? Did something happen to the expedition team? Not inclined to drink the cold bitter coffee, she dumped the dirty crockery into the disposer, rinsed her cup and took a quick gulp of water before hastening to medbay, one deck up. As it was the night shift, she had clear run of the corridor. To her surprise, Dorrin was standing at the doors to medbay.

He put up a hand when he saw her. "Downside is green, nothing's happening," he said, anticipating her question. "I called you because I thought you might want to see him."

"Who?" she said before realising whom he meant. "He's here? I thought you said he's on his way to Earth?"

"He took a turn for the worst so he's brought over here to have his condition stabilised," he turned to the doors which opened as he stepped nearer. "Doc has to push the sedatives to the limit."

Jaws clenched tight, she followed him in, passed the rows of empty beds on either side and a couple of SBAs working at their consoles. Down the aisle, a left turn and they came to the isolation cubicle. The surgeon lieutenant looked up at their entrance and was drawn aside in a quiet discussion with Dorrin. Ignoring them both, she approached the medbed, as near as she could without disrupting the sterilizing field.

Despite the grey that peppered his hair, the lines that grooved across his face, the hook nose and round face looked the same under the breathing cone. His eyelids trembled, as if he was in the midst of dreaming. Up close, she was startled by his appearance. His enlistment records had put him at seven years younger than she and now, he looked like a battle worn marine who had spent years on the front line. Dorrin moved behind her but said nothing.

"Saben Santino," she crossed her arms, staring down at the unconscious man.

"That's what his DNA profile says," he shifted so he could see her face; hard and set. "Looks like hell, doesn't he?"

"Pleading his case for him?"

"I'm only stating the obvious here," he said evenly, eyeing the gaunt frame of the man, outlined under the covers. "Doc says he has thermal and internal injuries, exacerbated by a term of malnutrition. He's not exactly living it fine in Cerberus."

"What about the chip?" she said brusquely, ignoring what he let dropped on the extent of Saben's injuries. What did it matter? The man should burn in the darkest pits a thousand times.

"Miss Lawson will forward any information she can dig up on this one," he eyed her anxiously, wondering if it was a good idea to let her see Santino for he could sense the simmering anger. Given Santino's history, he would prefer to keep Shepard away from him, at least, until the man had made sufficient recovery to provide some satisfactory answers. If he could. It hadn't been his call to make however, but Hackett's. The admiral's explanations had been too oblique to his liking for it sounded like the old man was angling for some target of his own. Was there something to be gained in riling Shepard?

"What's there to dig?" she snorted. "He achieved his purpose years ago and now he's mucking around with the Cerberus survivors. He should be put on the screws so he could sing out where they are all hiding."

"It's still going to take time," prudently, he did not point out that Santino may not even had a choice or even knew what he had done years ago.

"I've seen enough," it was a pointless conversation to her. There was nothing to she could learn from staring at an unconscious man she had the utmost desire to kill. She froze when a faint moan came from the medbed. On looking back, she saw Saben's eyes were opened. Confusion roiled in them as they shifted blurrily and blinked before meeting hers. Something glinted within. Was that recognition? Or was it just her fancy? With advancing signs of atrophy from indoctrination, how much of his sanity had he retained?

"Name! Rank!"

Dorrin's sudden bark startled her, she stared at him for a moment before returning her gaze to Saben. His mouth was opened, seeming to repeat the question.

"Name! Rank!" Dorrin persisted, curious to know if the man would respond to the sight of a familiar uniform, compel previous human influence and training to break through the barrier.

"...ssa..aben ...," the eyes roved to Dorrin's face before settling on hers. "..pfc ... Lt?"

"Where's Erial, Saben?" she said after the shock had worn off. Hardly believing he would recognise her.

"Lt?"

Taking a deep breath, she tried again. "Erial, Saben. You remember her?" she resisted the urge to shake him by the shoulders when he closed his eyes. "Bet you ten you can't make it round the block in five minutes," she said, recalling how Erial had challenged the newest recruit to the unit. "You lost, remember?" How she wish she could mentally force the answer she wanted out of him. The fury burning within flared even brighter when Saben said nothing.

"Don't you go out on me, private!" she shouted and shook off Dorrin's hand on her shoulder. "**Answer me**, **damn it!**"

"Shepard..," Dorrin had no idea who was Erial but it must have been someone in the unit she was close to. "Give him time." Hearing footsteps, he turned and waved away the surgeon lieutenant who had come to investigate the noise.

"I thought I was the only one who survived Akuze. Then Toombs showed up. A miracle I thought. Now him," she jerked her thumb at Saben as she rounded on Dorrin. "Am I the only one seeing a pattern here?! The only one who thinks there could be others?"

"He's as much a victim of Cerberus as the others," Dorrin met her glare unflinchingly. "He might have played a part in what happened to Akuze. Shepard, you read the report," he said forcefully when she snorted, "unknowing gambits. Why he wasn't eliminated and how he ended up with Cerberus, we may never know. Much as I harboured hope as you do that there are other survivors, let us not kid ourselves that they may have lived for long, given what Toombs had undergone in their hands," he continued even as she made to retort, "and judging from his responses, his answers are not exactly..voluntary."

"How do you explain his calling me LT then?" she demanded angrily.

"Again, that's..."

"..dead.." The clearly enunciated word cut across Dorrin's reply.

"Who is dead?" holding up a hand to forestall Shepard, Dorrin bent to Saben whose eyes remained shut. "What happened to the unit, soldier?"

"Dead...sir," a tear rolled out from a corner of Saben's eye. "..sorry," he whispered brokenly.

A dull metallic thump resounded, looking behind him, Dorrin saw Shepard striding furiously away and sighed, wishing once more Hackett had not been so insistent despite his protest. What the hell was the old man playing at? Damn him.

"Is he safe to move?" he said when the surgeon lieutenant returned.

"Yes sir," she nodded. "Most of his injuries are healed although given the rate of deterioration occurring in his cerebrum, he won't see more than six months."

Perhaps that would be enough to get more answers out of him. "Prep him for transfer to the Alesia," he said, turning to look at Saben, wondering if he understood what had just been said. The single tear track glistened in the light and the sight moved him to pity. "You're going home, soldier." There was no response but he wasn't expecting any for Saben just looked worst than he did before. As if he had understood and, by force of will, given the answer Shepard had wanted. Was it the burden of guilt? Had he perhaps knowingly played the role that saw his entire unit lured into a trap? He was not sure he wanted to know.

"Make sure he's comfortable," he instructed before leaving. On the way out, he noticed a fist size indentation high above the panel of the door and realised what the earlier metallic thump was. She could punch metal now? Or was that partly fueled by rage?

* * *

**Ilos**

"'Bout the same, I swear."

"Thought you're more keen on buff bods, not old dusty bods."

"Old classics are fun to read, man, you never know what crock they cooked up back then."

"Did I say I was reading classics? Don't you hardheads ever have a pass at history?"

"'K, professor, what'd the hell you saying? That they came to earth and started teaching them ... what ... Epitans?"

"Egyptians," deep heaving sigh. "Look, I'm just saying the Protheans could have influenced Earthern cultures, you know."

"Yeah, right, teaching the ... Egypies in pickling their dead and building triangles."

"Shit, why am I wasting time with you buttheads?!"

Seated in the corner of the small canteen, Peliar listened with half a ear to the conversation among the humans who had gone down to the lower archives with the researchers. It had been enlightening and somewhat mystifying to listen to the information let drop by the more intellectual soldier with an interest in history. She made a notation to look into these Egyptians in her datapad although she did not believe the Protheans had influenced the humans in any way. The advent of the Reapers 50 000 years ago had cut short their investigative projects among the primitive races, forcing closure of the Mars facility. Whether they would have meddled in the humans' evolution remain moot.

When the discussion, one-sided as it was, dissolved into a mild row among the humans, she turned her attention to the data she had collected from the corpses in the lower archives, sipping at the cup of juice she had poured from the pot at the canteen counter. Although not freshly pressed from the fruit, it was better than the other human beverage, coffee, which she found to be mostly too bitter for her taste. The sweet flavour of the juice was forgotten as she perused the scrolling data. It was fundamental readings at best. There was nothing better than to have a corpse fully examined but she doubted that there would be any chance of that happening any time soon. Indepth study would probably take place years later. A pity. The appearance of someone next to her drew her attention away from the datapad and she stiffened when she saw who it was.

"Discuss, discoveries?" Kedar enquired, bending slightly towards her.

"As you wish," she said guardedly. That the Salarian would want to talk about the lower Archives was no surprise to her, that it had taken him two hours after she was up and about, did.

Cool reception but he was expecting it. "Opinions on deaths?" he seated himself carefully across from her.

For a moment, she didn't answer. "It's obvious isn't it? The ones in the first room went to die, the ones in the second were forced to die," a slight shudder passed through her as she recalled the bodies beyond the hall.

"Concur," he rubbed his chin uneasily. "Erroneous, original assumptions, in cryogenic pods all Protheans in facility. Awaken early, personnel? Abandoned? Not Protheans?"

"Not Protheans? How is that possible?" she scoffed. "There is no other way down to that hall."

"To us, only one way. Many, to others before?"

"It's rather pointless hypothesizing when all we need to do is bring up some samples to study."

"Studies, later. Important, the TI," he pointed out and continued before she could answer. ""Inconclusive, samples might. Pure Protheans, not all," he pointed out. "Sub-race? Logical, manner of death."

"What?" at a lost, she stared at him.

"Concept, master race, priority, honour, sacrifice," he paused for a moment, his gaze far off. "Secondary, lower class, inconsequential, choice not given, summary executions."

"Do you know what you're saying?" she spluttered in horror.

"Indeed, manner of death, theory supported," he slapped down a datapad she did not notice he was carrying before her. "Traces of poison, bodies in hall."

Staring at it as if it would bite her, she did not touch it. "You come up with that with just a few scans?"

"Please," his eyelids flipped up halfway, insulted. "Mouth contents, obvious," as if by magic, he withdrew a small compact case no larger and thicker than his finger from the pocket of his sleeve and snapped it open, revealing tiny receptacles holding extraction kits. "Samples taken, analysed, hours ago," he nodded to himself in satisfaction.

"You didn't take any from those beyond the hall," she pointed out, annoyed with his smugness. She hadn't even notice him taking samples at all and doubted any of the others did. Module might but she wasn't about to ask it.

"Obvious, their deaths, asphyxiation."

"Fine," pushing the datapad aside, she leant forward. "Perhaps you could explain why is it with the hundreds of cyrogenic pods down there, the master race had to lay themselves out in a hall and kill themselves? Isn't that absurd?"

"Possibility...one," he gently put forth a finger to pull the datapad over to him.

"And what's that?"

"Resources insufficient," he got up, datapad in hand. "Good discussion, thank you," he nodded to her before stalking away, leaving her somewhat confused. Her gaze fell on the group of humans that had been following the conversation avidly. Hastily, they dispersed, vanishing from the canteen, leaving her to brood alone. What was the Salarian up to? If he wanted a sounding board, he could do better with one of his colleagues but she supposed he didn't really have a choice. Both Shepard and Liara were still onboard the Glasgow, Module had shut itself down; to correlate data,  
was the message it had left with one of the humans and now it was just a lump of metal sitting in a corner of Operations and she was the only one left he could bounce his theories off.

It would have been better if he had just waited for the others for now, she was left with a different and horrifying perspective of the much vaunted Protheans. If Kedar's deliberations were true, the Protheans had a dark depth to them no one had ever dreamt of. Wouldn't even dream of. There was so little known about the Protheans except the technology they left behind that was the driving force behind the elevation of the current galactic community. How revered they had been. Endless speculations and efforts had been spent to study the richness of their culture. Now, that legacy was disputed, with the Reapers claiming they were the builders and creators. In truth, if anyone wanted to know about Protheans, there was a single living speciment left. Living among the Hanar. What would he have said if Kedar had gone to him?

_Goddess, I don't know what to believe in anymore._

* * *

**Thessia**

The first thing she was aware of was muffled voices that sounded faraway before blaring with sudden clarity in her ears.

"Losing your touch, Hiaras?" a low rough voice said dryly.

"If you want a more gentle handle, you should have asked somebody else to watch your ass," a mezzo-soprano answered.

"Getting more sassy, I see. Get me the med patch in the other room."

Footsteps retreated. A soft touch at her chin as her head was turned left and right. Without opening her eyes, she reached out with her senses. Bed under her, smell of spices. Fingers, toes. To her relief, they moved freely in response. Shuffle, a soft tearing sound and then a hand gently taping something soft to her neck. The pain she didn't realise she was feeling flared into life and she gasped.

"Don't worry, there won't be any marks."

Her eyes snapped open, frantically roving around before settling down on the Asari sitting beside her. She recognised her in a flash; the matriarch Nyrine was dining with. Goddess, was she captured? Reading the panic in her eyes, the Asari held her hand before her eyes.

"If I want you dead, you're dead," she said. "And you don't have anything that I don't know about."

"How can you be so sure?" it was difficult to speak but she forced the words past her stiff throat.

"There's nothing that goes on in the academy that passes by me, Sanar T'Enaire."

"Who are you?" she said fearfully.

"Well, most people call me Aethyta."


	26. Chapter 26

**Omega Nebula, Arinlarkan System, Utha**

Wreathed in swathes of lightning, large dark grey clouds sailed lazily over the rich navy blue of the ocean beneath. The blue expense stretched for miles before frothing and foaming at the brown barrier that stood in its path. Tall spectacular waves lashed at the edges, sending fountains of water splashing in every direction, droplets sparkling in the light. He had no eye nor time to spare to admire the sight, his attention was split between the gauges of the drive core and the progress of deuterium collection from the vault of the abandoned prefab.

Once a popular way station for escaping slaves, Utha was now devoid of life. Despite the haven it offered from sensor detection, it was abandoned during the Reaper War. With traffic coming to a halt during the war, those who maintained the way station faced death from starvation for they depended heavily on trading deuterium for provisions and fusion cells with ships that would occasionally make stopovers. A slow death or a fast death, it made no difference, they chose to leave. After the war, the demise of the Batarian Hegemony and slave cartels further rendered it obsolete.

Which was why Sim Retok had to send in his crew to remove the stockpiles of deuterium that had been left behind. Not having to buy or trade was a boon but now he had to worry about the amount of radiation they were exposed to. The longer they stayed on the planet, the further the strain on the shields of the freighter. Tapping his foot, he checked the drive core readings and blew a sigh of relief; the static electric buildup had been fully discharged. Tapping a key to withdraw the discharging wand, he barked gruffly into the comlink and was gratified to learn the crew was returning. The sooner they were off, the better, for they had more buoys to deploy. By rights, he should have returned to Urdak to collect his due for the buoys around the Black Gate that Aria wanted were already in position but he thought it prudent to finish up the previous incomplete job because sooner or later, she would pick him up on it. It's never a good idea to cross the pirate queen, everyone in the Terminus Systems knew that.

He ran another check on the remaining buoys in the cargo hold, sending a signal and was pleased when each one responded smoothly. Small they might be, they were packed with advance sensor systems, with a good range of several hundred miles. They were as close to military grade sensors and curious as he was to how Aria laid her beauteous hands on these, he wasn't about to ask. As long as she paid good credits and consumables goods, he would even lick her boots. The comlink buzz; the crew was onboard with the deuterium. Pleased, he made preparations to leave. Within the hour, they were making for the darkness of space. Humming under his breath, he checked the charts for the Batalla System, carefully plotting out his flight path.

The comlink buzz again several minutes later. "Yeah?" he muttered.

"Got a bogey in low orbit," the low voice of his cargomaster rumbled.

Dropping the datapad in his hand onto his lap, he looked at the console before him. "Nothing's showing up," he said, fiddling with the sensor settings.

"I'm eyeballing it now."

"I'm not getting anything," he grumbled. "You sure?"

"It's close enough to swat our ass, that good enough fer you?"

"Scut it, I'm still not getting anything," he cursed. "Send me a vid. What's it doing?" If they were in danger, his cargomaster would have said something by now. It wouldn't have mattered, the freighter was just a fat target to anything that could shoot. He'd rather not know when his number was due. Better to die thinking good stuff and nothing the next.

"Deciding whether we're worth eating?"

His omni-tool lit up with a live feed. He's got laser eyes or something? Frowning, he peered at the small screen. Against the navy blue of the oceans of Utha, it was diffcult to pinpoint the ship and he wondered if the cargomaster was mistaken. As if knowing he was having difficulty, a hand drawn circle appeared on the screen. Squinting, he saw a spear shape, something, with wings. The silhouette looked somewhat familiar though it didn't match any ship configurations he knew of. Yet, he could have sworn he saw it somewhere before. Scratching his greasy head with puzzlement, he squinted and then reached for the console. His fingers hovered over the keys but something held him back. His gut feeling told him they should just continue their passive course and do nothing to indicate they had noticed the ship behind them.

The image was getting smaller and smaller. It was still in lower orbit when the freighter finally escaped the gravitational pull of Utha. Maybe it was there to discharge the drive core too, nothing more. He hesitated before bringing up navigation and reprogrammed for the Sahrabarik System. Once that was done, he brought up the vid again, enhancing the image. For some reason, it disturbed him very much. Pushing the enhancement as far as it could go, he finally recalled where and when he had seen such a ship before. Wasn't it destroyed? No, wait, it wasn't. Scratching his sticky bristly chin in confusion, he made an effort to remember before giving it up. It didn't matter, someone else would know better than him.

* * *

**Ilos**

Knowing it was time wasting and energy sapping to trudge through that mileage everyday to get to the lower archives, the first thing that Shepard did the moment she and Liara returned to the prefab dwelling on the surface of Ilos was to send a few marines down to the trench and make a thorough search around the trucks for smaller vehicles that the team could use to travel beneath. When they reported there were no such vehicles to be found, she was resigned to considering falling back to the secondary plan of having the team temporarily set up tents in the small lobby below the stairs. That was until Liara suggested the marines looked in the eastern passage, thinking the previous expeditions might have left transportation along that passage.

In the midst of these activities, Module "awoke" and requested a conference. Using the positions of the cryogenic pods, length of the passages, the hall, it had been working out a plausible projection of the archives, access points, ventilator shafts and so on. Looking at the holographic image, Shepard hoped there was an express elevator or something equivalent, otherwise, they would all have to do some climbing. She doubted Module would risk throwing itself into that abyss without knowing what was at the bottom, even if it was extrapolated that the core lay in the center of the huge shaft they had seen from the ledge at Vigil's terminal.

_So what else is new, that's practically what Vendetta said too. The core is always at the bottom._

Chin in her hand, she stared at the holographic image before realising Ulros was speaking to her. Ten minutes later, she was out with the team in the trench, making their way to the lower archives. Riding behind her on the hovercycle, Liara made no comment on the speed they were travelling for she was much more concerned with the hurt within her bondmate. The wound she tasted from the memory Shepard had shared with her in her impromptu meeting with Saben Santino was akin to what she had felt years ago when she had managed to locate Shepard's body and having to relinguish it, even if it was done in the hope that somehow, she could be brought back. There was no such reprieve for her bondmate and she knew it rankled.

With parents often absent and having to uproot every few years, there were few friends Shepard could form a bond with, until she met Erial. Although they were only together for two years, Erial had been the closest to a sibling she had wished for and would ever have. A part of her would pine for her, Liara knew, just as she herself missed her mother on the occasions when Aethyta would join their little family. Sometimes, she wondered if Shepard wouldn't try to persuade her mother to come to Thessia and mentally sent that question to Shepard.

_It's not going to happen, love. She is and always will be just a voice and an email. {indifferent}_

_It has been some time since you last saw her. You could.. try to visit her. {encouraging}_

_And do what? {scoffs} Stare at each other? The times we saw each other were less than the fingers on a hand and we had even less to say other than the usual polite platitudes. She's just happy to have a daughter who's not staining the family name._

_Are the two of you never to really talk to each other? It seems..excessively...conflicting. {persuasive}_

_She never came to our bonding ceremony even though I invited her, never acknowledges you. {anger}_

_It is not important. You..._

_Forget it, love. If she ever regarded me as someone living, not a footnote in her ladder climbing, she knows where to find us. {pause} And I'm alright. Give me some time. I'm angry, upset, yes, but I'm glad Erial died a clean death, not living as a Cerberus slave. I'm thankful for that at least._

_She would be happy you hold her close to your heart if she knew._

_Not as close as you, love. {warmth}_

Smiling, Liara savored the wave of affection Shepard sent her and wished they were somewhere else, not riding underground on a dead world. The hovercycle did not seem so daunting now but she was firmly against Shepard bringing it back to Thessia. Not when Shepard herself broke some bones in her illicit joyride. Mentally, she made a little note to emphasize her stance should Shepard bring it up again.

They reached the elevator to the lower archives and made their way down the stairs to the lobby. There, the marines Shepard had sent ahead waited with their discoveries; hovercarts. Liara's guess had been dead on, the previous expedition had travelled the eastern passage on the hovercarts that had been brought in once they realised the lower archives covered too huge an area for them to go on foot. Each cart could seat four with a small storage compartment at the back. There was even a cart fitted with a small flatbed. Module's eyeflaps twitched but it made no comment to the prospect of being hauled around and stepped readily onto it when one of the marines invited it to take a "seat". On the carts, they took less than half an hour to reach the elevator to the hall.

The carts however, would not all fit into the elevator and had to be left behind. No one suggested transporting them down to the hall one by one. The unspoken consensus was to walk than ride among the dead. Through the hall they went until they reached the round door. For a moment, no one moved and Shepard opened her mouth to detail the marines to shift the bodies when Module stepped forward. Taking a long stride, it stepped over the mound piled at the door and then bent to gently lift the nearest bodies to the side, clearing a small path. The marines quickly lent their efforts to clear the doorway.

Beyond, bodies were strewed along the the short corridor which forked into two passages. They took the right, stepping carefully in open spaces. Bending now and then, the researchers examined the corpses but kept moving. The exit was a three metre round opening with no door. The illumination from their flashlights were unable to penetrate far enough through the darkness to let them see what lay further. Signalling the group to hold, Shepard stepped cautiously to the doorway. The last thing she needed was a sudden dropoff. There wasn't any of that however and she waved the team forward.

"..wher're we?" one of the marines murmured, looking above him. There was nothing to be seen but pitch blackness, everywhere.

"Conference," Shepard signalled another halt once the group was out of the passage, looking down the flight of stairs that led to to a broad empty lane, benches and low buildings on either side.

" .. the settlement," breathed Liara, eyes wide.

"And we have no idea how big it is," turning her flashlight, Shepard spotted intersecting lanes. "Liara?"

"Module, please display pcl02," Liara waited till the holographic image sprang up. "To put it simply, Prothean cities and colonies follow a set structure that comply with their echelons of empirism. Power was centralised," she pointed to the middle of the map of concentric circles, "in the heart of each city and colony, surrounded by the lower order of hierarchy."

"Outer reaches, vassals?" Kedar enquired.

"Yes," she said shortly, recalling the discussion she had with Javik prior to her departure from Thessia. It had been an awkward conversation; it was hard to stay neutral the more she learnt about the divisions of assimilated races in the Prothean empire. "The grid for this research colony would have followed the same order, with perhaps one or two merged subsidiaries within the main governing body due to resource constrictions of Ilos."

"How far down are we?"

"Approximately midway down the shaft," said Module, minimising the city grid. It blinked green as the Geth Prime highlighted the location beside the shaft. Lines appeared, linking it to the elevators and passages they had travelled through. "There should be passages beneath to lead us to the core, maintenance or official entry," more lines light up, blinking red. "These are plausible routes for more access points."

"Ok, so...," Shepard pointed to one of them, "we've two possibities. One, we head south-west in the hopes of locating either an elevator or stairs that goes straight down. Two, we go straight to the center of the city grid, the seat of administration. There should be an entrance there. Thoughts?" she looked at the group.

"Option two, logical."

Kedar's answer was expected so Shepard looked at Peliar who only nodded in agreement with the choice.

"I concur," said Module, removing the holographic image before looking across the darkness. She wondered how far it could see with its sensors.

"Shall we go?" was all Liara said when Shepard looked at her.

"Move out."

Turning around, she went down the stairs, kicking up puffs of dust. The group fanned out loosely behind her, lights gliding this way and that as they looked at the buildings along the broad lane. Several small streets bisected the road, neatly dividing the grid into rectangular blocks. Covered with centuries of dust, the buildings were a uniform grey. Small and blocky in design, they could at best house a few individuals or a small family. Doors were shut, round windows stared back glassily, giving no clue as to what lay within. There were nothing that could be construed as street lamps. If there had been any flora, they had been reduced to dust. Numerous benches dotted along the sidewalk at intervals. Not the typical straight benches often seen everywhere else. These were a set of five small curved benches forming a circle.

Liara was sure they meant something. Perhaps a representation of something important. Or she could be reading something out of nothing and they were meant to aesthetically enhance some design. She wondered if there would be traces of motifs to be found. Although most Prothean ruins were often reduced to fragments, the underlying beauty and design were clear once the pieces were assembled. But not here, the current surroundings exuded a dreary drabness. It did not help that there were corpses scattered around the buildings. Most upsetting were the sight of an adult hugging a smaller body that could only belong to a child and a small pair of corpses huddling at one of the benches, limbs twined around each other. A hand grasped hold of her arm, pulling her away as she stood staring at them.

_Come on, love. {empathy} There's nothing we can do for them._

_How could they do this?! {disbelief}_

_Right now, I need you to focus. Questions later?_

Taking a deep breath, Liara nodded. Without knowing what had happened, she should not jump to conclusions. It was hard not to, given the evidence before their eyes. She realised the rest of the group had halted, waiting for them when Shepard realised Liara had dropped behind and went to get her. Without a word, they continued down the lane and came within sight of a low wall that stretched across. The road continued through an opened arch in the wall. Passing through, they found themselves looking at more low blocky buildings. These were slightly different; wider, with varied shaped doors and windows. The circle of benches seemed ubiguitous for they were just as readily scattered along the sidewalk. It took some time before they registered that something was missing.

"Corpses?" Kedar looked around curiously as the rest came to the same realisation.

"I'm guessing they're either in cryogenic pods or lying in the hall," said Shepard, pausing to rub the tip of her boot on the surface of the road. It felt somewhat different to her. Thicker?

Observing her action, Module brushed away the dust beneath its foot, revealing a plaid of grooves cut into the ground. "Compressed compounds," it said. "Buildings in this sector are also denser."

"Better built, higher status," nodded Kedar, tapping his omni-tool to take a reading for the ground.

"Let's move on," impatience laced Shepard's voice. How the Protheans arrayed their empire was not important to her at the moment. She was more interested in reaching the heart of the research facility. There was nothing to threaten them in this tomb and there was no reason they should trail along like frightened tourists, gawping at empty buildings. It must have been the bodies, she decided. If there was one thing to sap energy out of an expedition, it was the notion of having to walk among the dead. Especially if they had not been laid to rest peacefully. Nothing like entertaining the idea that wraiths would come to you in your dreams for having disturbed their sleep. _Or it's just me. _Inanely, she wondered if Geths dream.

"There," Liara pointed ahead. "It should be the main complex."

"I'd say it is," said Shepard. "I don't see any other imposing facade around here," she eyed the multi-storied pyramid-like structure with tall spired towers bisecting the edifice, her flashlight barely stabbing through the darkness to reveal more until they were near enough to discern a long flight of stairs leading to the main entrance. "Well, at least they left the door opened," she said once they reached the top of the stairs to find an ovoid entrance.

"No,' Module corrected, reaching out to slap the blackness. There was a thud.

"Right," she sighed, wishing they could just walk in. "Take a ten minute breather, everyone," she said even as she bent to examine the door, running her hand over the surface before moving to the edge. So how were they to get inside? Emergency or maintenance doors? There should be a few for a complex of this size. Humming under her breath, she tapped the wall beside the door as she strode past it. Her vision wavered for a moment...

_...circuitry needs more work. {hand taps on side panel} Primary components online. {the rod emits a healthy green light} Secondary power backups should be in place {hand reaches up and into the circuitry access niche}..._

Dimly, she heard someone calling. "Shepard ... _Shepard_!"

"What?" blinking in confusion, she stared at Liara. Why did she look so unsettle?

"The door is open," Liara said, resisting the desire to touch Shepard; to find out what was that strange cloudy feeling she was receiving from her. For a moment, she had sensed something odd, as if she was "hearing" someone else.

"It is?" Shepard realised she had her hands on an opened circuit panel and snatched them away. When did she open ... how did she ...? "Damn it, it happened again," she muttered.

"What did?" Peliar said, eyeing Shepard intensely.

"Prothean database that was shared before we left Thesia," Liara said smoothly. "We had been discussing how to use it."

"Yeah," Shepard caught on quickly. "I didn't think I would remember."

"What is this Prothean database?" Peliar said suspiciously, not taking her gaze off Shepard and it was just as well she could not see through her helmet.

"Access panels for one," Shepard gestured at the opened niche, "not every one has the same design. I didn't have time to assimilate everthing." Which was not exactly a lie; she had just accepted what Shiala had said about the Cipher and made no attempt to try to understand exactly what it was. "It's just pure luck I happened to hit all the right nodes." The rest said nothing though Kedar was in that posture that she had come to recognise as his contemplative mode and she wondered if the wily Salarian saw through the half-truths.

"Primary objective is near," interjected Module just as Peliar was about to probe further. "We should proceed."

"We should, yes," nodded Kedar supportively, ignoring Peliar's glare.

"Then let's get to it," said Shepard, stepping to the opened door. "Stay alert, we don't know what's inside," she warned before stepping through.

* * *

**Thessia, Third Quadrant, Amali**

Rubble were strewed everywhere. Once standing proud and tall, much admired for their beauty, spires lay broken and disregarded on the ground. Clogged waterways overflowed, stubbornly finding their way under every obstacle, to feed the sprouting green growth. Ominous, bloated and malevolent, the black hulk was a blotch. It and its dead ilk cast their shadows long and lasting, withering every tiny effort life made to renew the land. Their touch had no effect on another lifeform however.

Like wasps, Geth dropships converged on the hulk and proceeded to systematically cutting it to pieces. Before they were halfway through, a flurry of bombardments suddenly exploded in their midst. The attack was not unexpected; the Geths had been encountering resistence ever since they began to clear away the Reaper remains. The dropships quickly assumed a higher altitude and returned fire at the hidden missile placements that had been inert before their arrival. Various smaller vehicles began taking to the skies; gunships and skycars. These were shot down, despite broadcasts by the Geths to the drivers and pilots to withdraw. In the middle of the one-sided battle, the Geth Prime in charge of the operation received an unexpected call.

"You wish us to disengage?" it queried the Asari on the comvid.

"Yes, the Assembly request that all purging procedures to halt until further notice," she said carefully, as if afraid she would be misunderstood. "It is also requested that all Geth ships assemble at Station Pysor until the Assembly can confer with the Geth ambassador."

"Noted. It shall be done," it said and gazed at the blank vid for a moment after the Asari ended the call. Its eyeflaps wavered even as it issued the order for the withdrawal. The Geth dropships ceased firing even as they boosted for space, easily leaving behind the attackers that tried to chase them. The surviving skycars and gunships scurried around the sky, as if in celebration before returning once more to their dens.

Miles away, an Asari looked up from her console as another hurried in to hand her a datapad. Before long, it was slammed down on the desk. The force of the impact broke the datapad in half.

"Fools!"


	27. Chapter 27

**Words to note.**

**Callies - a term used to describe disruptor torpedoes launched at point black range akin to Calliope rocket artillery launchers that shoot missiles in ripple-fire waves**

**Gardian turrets - ship defenses to shoot down torpedoes and fighters**

**DRA - radiation signatures ships emitted**

**Ladar - powerful active sensors that assemble images of objects that are detected**

* * *

**Pylos Nebula, Dirada System, Siano**

Stifling a yawn, he blinked away weary tears from strained eyes. Sighing softly, he glanced over to the chronometer. Ten minutes before his shift ended and he could hand over his station to the first watch. Rubbing a stuffy nose, he rotated his head slowly, stretching stiff muscles before returning his attention to the console. Scan data continued to flow in an endless stream. Not a single anomaly was picked up. At this rate, they would be rejoining the rest of the 71st at Asteria Station before the forenoon watch. They would have several hours ago but the captain wanted another look at the inner asteroid belts and they had. As far as he knew, there was nothing there. Which was all good but he was ready for rack time and he could hardly wait.

As he glanced towards the chronometer again, the deck heaved and everything kaleidoscoped into confusion. The first thing he was aware of was he was suddenly metres away from the console he had been sitting at and his elbow stung. As he stared dumbly at the tilted chair, loud wailing clashed in. Ship alert. What? His right arm was grasped and he stared into the face of the chief navigator who quickly looked him over before pulling him to his feet.

"Back to your station!"

Automatically, he snapped to and nearly fell when the deck heaved again. Stumbling forward, he grabbed the back of his chair before falling into it, strapping himself in, suddenly aware the ship was under attack. Behind him, he could hear numerous voices and smelt something burning, fleshy. He didn't look. The incoming reports began to register.

"...close up!"

"... damaged."

"...aft compartments breached."

"Scans picking up numerous DRAs..."

"Incoming Callies!" The deck heaved as a few more torpedoes inpacted. "Gardian turrets at 50 percent capacity."

"Helm, roll 80 degrees port, any vector, get us out of missile range if you can. Ladar reading?" came the captain's tense voice, cutting through all the others.

"Multiple bogeys! More Callies coming in!"

There was no time to feel the fear, he worked as quickly as he could, feeding vital data to the CCC terminals as fast as the remaining working sensors picked them up. With so many waves coming in at them, there was no way the Gardian turrets could keep up the rate of fire. They would soon overheat. If they failed to nail whoever was attacking them or get the hell out of there, they were done for. Part of him wondered if they would make it. The other knew better.

"Gardian turrets down 30 percent!"

The ship heaved more violently, someone screamed when a console exploded, smoke and burning electronics drifted across the bridge. The automatic fire retardants responded, adding more miasma to the air. He coughed, breathing through his mouth, his attention narrowed down to what was before him.

"Deck two OOC, engineering reports damage to drive..."

The ship shook, it felt as if it was about to come apart for the deck was trembling intensely.

"Data core dump, TD beacon, launch in 10 seconds and fire all torpedoes actual."

The captain sounded so calm. It was the last dance, everyone on the bridge knew it but nobody ran for the lifepods. They stayed at their stations, pulling every single bit of data off their consoles, feeding the probe till the last second before launch. He did the same. There was nothing else to be done, no time to think or feel, except his duty in those 10 seconds.

"Probe launched. Firing all torpedoes."

Something exploded to his right and he ducked, shielding himself with his arm. The deck pitched and all sounds vanished. Pain lanced across his chest, he gasped, feeling ice across his cheeks. Was it winter already? No wait. He needed to do something. The vid, he hadn't sent the vid to his sister. He tried to open his eyes and couldn't. He should have worn a jacket, it was so cold.

The silent fiery fireworks ruptured spectacularly and briefly. The audience didn't cheer or clap at the display. How could they? They were just rocks, once part of a greater whole. Parts and pieces spun, propelled by the force, before crashing and burning in the gravitational pull of the planet. Several went caroming off the asteriods before joining them in their eternal orbit, drifting in silence.

* * *

**Local Cluster, Earth, Citadel**

It was not meant to be there. For hundreds and thousands of years, it had dwelled in the Widow System, swimming in gasses from the Serpent Nebula. Home to several million sentients, it was the diplomatic, cultural, commercial hub of the galactic community. Capital of the Citadel Council. The seat of power. Now, it was anchored permanently in geostationary orbit around Earth, a shadow of what it used to be. The inhabitants of Earth were not asked if they wanted such a satellite. Those onboard the station were not asked if they wanted to move. The choice was not theirs to make.

The conquerors had not been kind. That particular emotion was alien and irrelevent to them. It suit their purpose to do as they willed. And they had done just that, in a bid to ensure totally victory. Except that it had not gone the way they intended. With their demise, the Citadel had remained where they left it. No one had any idea how to return it to where it once was. And no one was much inclined to make it their business to do so. Living was more important. Food, water, shelter was the priority. Not moving a space station that was not going to fall on anybody any time soon.

With most of the major cities uninhabitable, survivors had withdrawn to the safer rural zones. Those with agrarian lands fell back on remaining stockpiles, seeding when the seasons became favorable. The rest scavenged and looked to the Systems Alliance for support. Afterall, they were the elected voice of humanity, protector and provider. It had not been easy. Supplies had shrunk during the war and there was not enough to go around. The Alliance fell back on homesteading viable lands and rationing while sending ships out to the outer colonies that had survived, in the hopes of retrieving as much needed food that could be spared as possible to tide the survivors over for a time until the new harvests were in. That was when the Quarians and Geths came forward with a few proposals.

Several Quarian liveships were repurposed into hydroponics and grazing facilities. Whatever livestock were available, they were put into the ships; before they were eaten into extinction, was the unspoken sentiment. Eggs, meat and dairy supplements were the practical standpoint. Portable generators, power cells, water filtration, prefeb dwellings, medical supplies; the Alliance tried to provide as much as they could to settle the survivors before turning their attention to the clean up process. With the Geths doing much of the groundwork, London was cleared of the Reaper remains and processing centres and resettled. A security grid was set up around the beam conduit and kept off bounds. The cleansing spread on outward from there, slowly but surely.

It was more difficult with the Citdael. The ward arms were damaged and could be repaired but there was a brief period of uncertainty as to what should be done with the piles of corpses. There should be attempts at identification before burial, some felt. But the numbers were too great and there was no way of keeping the bodies around indefnitely, short of tethering them out in space until they could be retrieved. Some suggested powering down one of the wards and depositing the remains there till later but it was not met with much favour; no one wanted a morgue in their backyard. Finally, with much regret, representatives of each race was asked to attend a mass ceremony before the bodies were gathered and loaded into empty freighters to be pitched into the sun. That was, whatever bodies that could be found. No one knew if the Keepers had already removed a number into the protein vats. There was no interest in finding out.

With the Reapers gone, the dark purpose behind the Keepers crippled, the docile creatures were left to carry on the tasks they had been doing for thousands of years; maintaining the space station. The only thing to be done was to repair the larger damage to the arms of the Citdael though it was suggested that the Keepers might have the means to do it themselves. However, as there was a possibility that larger parts might peel off to fall to the planet below, the Alliance sent in the crews to ensure it did not happen. Slowly, the survivors of the Citadel picked up the bits and pieces. Scarred and haunted but determined to rebuild their lives.

Sitting in his office in what used to be the Earth embassy, Admiral Colin A. Landon magnified the vid he was viewing and grinned when a large flock of fowls flowed eagerly across the grass. Feeding time. He flipped the vid back to normal view; a Quarian liveship in lower orbit around the Earth. Animals were such simplistic creatures. Even if they were a bit messy at times but at least they did not harbour the intelligence to plot and kill. He sighed, turning his attention back to the reports, wishing they were accounts of progress, not destruction. Wishing his predecessor had survived to handle the load he was trying to juggle but unfortunately, he was killed when Arcturus Station was destroyed. He himself had hardly warmed the post of Captain for a couple of years before someone saw fit to kick him up the suddenly depleted ranks.

Until they came to realise what they were dealing with, there had been confusion over the riots, raids and attacks on Alliance troops, depots and on the Citadel. Initially, the brass and the Council had thought the reason behind the violence was due to the insufficient supplies to succor the needs of the survivors. Then they found out that the TI were behind it. The discovery had shook them up and nearly plunged them all into anarchy; no one trust the other and none could come to a concensus on what ought to be done. When the solution was found to sort out who was who, still, arguments raged back and forth.

But the old man had cut through it all, laid down the cold hard facts and the ultimatum. Whether the Council agree or no, he began the purge on his own planet with the newly elected Parliament backing him up. Relentlessly, he sent in whatever support the Geths needed to clear each zone; marines, gunships, heavy tanks, drones to root out and destroy TI strongholds. In a strongly worded message to the marines, he exhorted them to put aside their skepticisms; if they believe in a future, they had to be merciless in this war. For the TI had none themselves. Slaves to the masters they served, their only goal was to see an end to those who destroyed the Reapers.

As it was, the rate of clearance was going faster than the homeworlds of the other races. However, it was reaching saturation point for the marines. It must come to an end soon. Both he and Hackett knew that. There was only so much stress the human psychic could tolerate before collapsing. Going from one massive conflict to another so quickly and closer to home was an erosion of the soul and body. The soldiers needed time to rest and recuperate. Fervently, he hoped the expedition to Ilos would come up with an answer. They all needed one, not just the humans.

Flipping through the reports, he rubbed his brow wearily. More sabotages. Not from the TI either, but from those with blood ties to them or in sympathy. The TI agents were clever, sowing rumors and misinformation. Public arrests had further fueled many misconceptions despite media announcements about the TI. Despots, dictators were the kinder names flung at the Alliance. Others, joined in for the heck of it, just because it was the Alliance, tried to twist events and create more chaos. He wished he could just pluck them all up and turf them out in dark space. Leave the rest of the good fellows to live in the peace they sought to bring about. Then, to add to the cauldron of happy stew, there was Cerberus.

The beep from his vidcom distracted him. He tabbed the key. "Yes?"

"Councilor Tevos would like to have a word with you, sir," his pale fish of an assistant blinked owlishly at him.

"Of course." He waited for the Asari to appear on the vid. "What can I do for you, councilor?" he inquired politely, trying not to stare too hard at Tevos, especially the facial markings which he found fascinating and her eyes. Of the many Asari he had met, he found her appealing and often had to make an effort to make their meetings business-like.

"Admiral Landon," she greeted. "I have something I would like to confer with you over com Alpha-niner."

"Com..," his brows twitched in surprise but he switched to the secured channel as she requested. "What is it, councilor?" he was sure he would not like what she was about to tell him.

"I'm sending you a recorded vid," she looked down at her end. "This was taken via omni-tool on a freighter that was in the Arinlarkan System, planet Utha."

"Omni-tool? Were the sensors damaged on the freighter?" he frowned as he transferred the data to his console and ran the vid. The recording was bad, the best he could make out was the dark navy-blue oceans of the planet in the background.

"The freighter sensors were unable to detect the ship the cargomaster saw from the viewport in the aft compartment," there was a twinkle in her eye when she saw his brows beetling. "The ship is highlighted," she added helpfully.

"Ah yes," he muttered when a crude hand drawn circle appeared and he boosted enhancement to the maximum. He froze. "Where did you say this ship was at?" he said disbelievingly.

"Omega Nebula, Arinlarkan System, Utha," she repeated before adding. "Admiral, is this ship what I think it is?"

"It's ... when was this vid taken?" feverishly, he brought up records of the Alliance task forces.

"Two days ago. Admiral, there are two other ships I know of that had this configuration," Tevos said slowly. "The first was destroyed in 2183 and the other first appeared under another flag in 2186, both under Shepard's command."

"There is another frigate of the same class as the SSV Normandy," Landon corrected, "the SSV Ain Jalut but she's nowhere in the Arinlarkan System. Not unless someone managed to sneak her out from dry dock. The Normandy SR2 is currently at the Armstrong Nebula, " he shook his head. _The old man is going to jump when he hear about this._

"Then we have a problem."

"We do," he nodded. "Who sent you this vid?" he said, curious about her informant. For he was sure it did not come by her usual sources for the location was a dead giveaway.

"From someone at Omega Nebula."

"Councilor," he didn't like her evasion.

"It's ...," she thought for a moment, considering. "Aria T'Loak," she said finally. "Admiral," she continued before he could speak. "The Alliance might want to call a conference soon. In regards to developments in the Omega Nebula, especially in reference to events in 2185 when Shepard traversed the Omega 4 Relay on the Normandy. It would be appreciated if Shepard and those who went with her attend the meeting as well."

"It might be difficult, she..."

"I know the mission she is currently undertaking. However, in light of more pressing concerns, I believe this current crisis has to be resolved quickly."

"Councilor ... Tevos," he leant forward, "what stance is the Council taking?"

"I cannot say at the moment," she hesitated. "My advice is to act immediately."

"Noted. Thank you, councilor."

Politics. Leaning back in his chair, he ruminated for a moment before placing a call to London and was put through quickly to the old man's office. A rather spartan looking office he might add, much like his own but then he had little time to decorate. Besides, he was sure the old man preferred simplicity. The lines on Hackett's face seemed more pleated as he listened to Landon's report and viewed the recording, his face darkened. For a moment, he said nothing.

"She has it right, we have to call it," he rasped. "They have the specs for the Normandy and could easily repurpose whatever ships they have."

"Sir, I'm thinking we should send someone to check out Alchera," Landon said worriedly.

"Good point," Hackett nodded. "Put the SR2 on this one. We need to know just what they're up to before those damn dogs start to go amok. Right now, my best guess is that they're just grooming up and gathering in packs. We need to hit them fast."

"Sir, I know it's our problem but we're stretched thin..," Landon pointed out.

"That's why she suggested Shepard," Hackett sighed heavily. "We dropped the ball, Landon. We should have done a cleaner job. Now it's our task to make sure we put out the fire we failed to douse two years ago."

"What about Ilos, sir?"

"From the latest update, the expedition has found the main core beneath the complex. The freighters have already left Asteria Station and should be reaching Ilos in a day. Give or take, they'll charge up the core with the fusion reactors within 12 hours," he paused for a moment.

"Sir, I think we should send in the 71st, 75th and 78th flotillas to Omega Nebula for further recon before we take the next step."

Landon knew Hackett was loathed to pull Shepard away from a task that was just as vital as stamping out Cerberus. Sending in the frigate flotillas would offer them a little more time to manuever; gather more information, reshuffle the task forces and make discreet inquiries with the Turians and Salarians.

"Do it," Hackett nodded. "Right now, we can only hope those dogs lie dormant a little longer so Shepard could shake out a final dissolution to the TI."

"Yes, sir."

"Did Tevos say how she came by this information?" Hackett said suddenly.

"Aria T'Loak, sir," Landon was startled when the older man gave a bark of laughter.

"You might want to ask that Asari to lend a hand."

"I was thinking of that, sir but...," Landon said slowly, "I'm of two minds as to whether we should."

"She's a very resourceful woman though she might be somewhat hamstrung at the moment. The same goes for us as well," Hackett snorted. "I believe we both have what the other needs so just go directly to her, she'll appreciate it."

"I'll do that, sir."

"Good. Landon," Hackett added, "when was the last time you saw a razor?"

Landon stared at the blank vid. Right, contact the pirate queen. However, he had no idea how he was supposed to do that when the woman didn't leave behind a contact number when she vanished from the Citadel. He smacked his head after a moment. Tevos, of course. Some naval intelligence chief he was. Perhaps he could use a bit of break time. He had been stuck in the office for what seemed like days now, going through file after file. Incidents just seemed to keep piling up. Especially the latest fire on the matter of the death of the Alliance officer sent to Thessia to acquaint the Asari military with some of the Alliance doctrines. Trouble was brewing over there and he had no clue as to the cause; TI or something else. There had been hints of internal conflicts within the Assembly.

Rubbing his hand over his chin, he winced at the sharp prickly bristles and realised what Hackett had meant. Razor, of course. He had not shaved, since when? Had he forgotten to bathe too? He shuddered. Perhaps that was why his assistant was giving him odd looks. Mouse of a fellow, he could have just come right out and say so! An Alliance Admiral going about looking like a vagabond. It would not do.

He wondered what the Asari Councilor made of the dark shadow around his chin. _Landon, get a life._ Sighing, he turned to his console, mentally composing a message. On impulse, he sent another to Tevos instead and then instantly regretted it. _Landon, you've gone utterly mad. What's gotten into you? Hard up for women? You have to hit on an Asari Councilor, do you?_

It was too late to retract the message. At best, he could plea temporary insanity if she asked about it. Perhaps post-war-syndrome; where every soldier just wanted someone to talk to, to listen to his ramblings. Perhaps he should have his head examined for trying for someone who was older than his grandmother. Exasperated with himself, he got up and left the office. Time to get some rack time. And food.

* * *

**Thessia**

When Zelenia asked how the investigation was going, Sanar had to regretfully report there was not much progress. It was the truth in any case, she hadn't been able to track down the Asari whose cells were found in the target tracer, even comparing it with the data of the recruits, there was not a single hit. It was a blank wall she was running up against and no doubt, the Alliance investigative team would just be as disturbed as she was. As it was, she turned over all the evidence and data to the humans when they arrived. Brought them out to the training site and arranged for interviews with the recruits and officers.

Nyrine was her usual obdurate self such that one of the humans couldn't resist throwing the most provoking questions at her. Surprisingly, Nyrine handled the questions calmly and the session ended with no incident. The humans were just as stymied as her and they were not happy. The case was left opened until something turned up. The most important concern Zelenia had was that the humans would temporarily withdraw their support but apparently, they were prepared to do the opposite. The Alliance affirmed they were committed to aid in the training of the recruits and would accordingly send another officer. Zelenia had declared that the human would stay at the academy instead of taking to the field with the trainees. Sanar would oversee the training sessions. She supposed the next target would be herself. Afterall, if the intention was to sabotage and delay the military campaign, it was the logical choice. Perhaps.

"Buy you a drink?" a mezzo-soprano voice murmured behind her. It was expected but somehow it sent a tingle through her. "_Ydrisaro_." It was pitched low but those seated at the bartop heard it, glanced at them in a moment of brief curiosity and then away.

"What're you offering?" she looked over her shoulder. The commando was not in armor, Sanar saw. She was dressed in a flowing mid-thigh tunic and slacks. But of course, she wouldn't be, not in a bar.

"From my own stock," Hiaras handed her a small crystal flute before sitting herself on the stool beside her at the bar. "What I managed to save."

"Is this...," Sanar stared at the deep golden glaze-like liquid, barely a thimble full, with awe. The other patrons near them craned to look, murmuring and casting knowing looks at them even as they admired the hue of the alcohol.

"From the monastery, yes," bringing her own glass against Sanar's, Hiaras tipped it lightly to produce a tiny sweet clink. "Drink."

"It's too..," began Sanar, taken aback for the worth of the alcohol was more than quadriple on the current market rate.

"Not to worry, it's the most basic pressing," Hiaras shoved the glass into her hand. "Drink. Or I can just ...," she looked around the bar, "offer it elsewhere."

Almost reverently, Sanar took a sip. The rich sweet spiciness almost took her breath away.

"How old is this?" she gasped, feeling a bit of tears welling up before blowing out a breath to clear the tang.

"Not the oldest in my collection," smiling, Hiaras took another sip. "It takes a while, take small sips."

"This is going to spoil me," she said after a while, doing as instructed.

"That's the idea," laughed Hiaras. The sound sent shivers down Sanar's spine. Looking at her glass, she saw there was just a little bit left but already, she was feeling the effects. She shivered again when Hiaras bent close to her. "I've more where that comes from. Interested?"

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" she demanded.

"Only if you want to. This bar can do better," Hiaras nodded to the bartender who shrugged but smiled at them knowingly.

"For such an amazing drink, why not," Sanar downed the remainder of the wine. Hiaras laughed again before taking hold of her hand, pulled her somewhat roughly away from the bar, out the front doors and to the carpark. The pace she set was too hasty for Sanar, feeling somewhat befuddled from the wine.

"You don't have to...," she began to say when they reached the carpark and stiffened in shock when she was brought up flush against Hiaras. The next thing she knew was warm lips against her own, a hand on her spine and fingers running along her neck. The wine she drank seemed to boil in her stomach, spreading heat. This was going too far, too fast, she thought wildly, fighting to cool her desire when Hiaras ran her mouth along her neck. That was, until Hiaras threw a dash of cold water on her.

"Sorry, I was afraid you would say or do the wrong thing," Hiaras whispered into her ear. "There're two standing at the entrance watching us. How about putting your arms around me?"

Swallowing her disappointment, she tried to make her movements smooth and natural as she wound them around Hiara's back.

"Aethyta is waiting for us," Hiaras mumured without ceasing running her mouth down her neck.

"All right," she wished the other would stop already since they were playacting and get them away. It didn't help that she was still feeling flickers of desire. It must be the wine, she decided.

"Sanar T'Enaire," as if knowing what she was thinking, Hiaras chuckled. "I do desire you."

With that, Hiaras pulled Sanar over to the skycar, maneuvered her stunned companion into it and drove off.


	28. Chapter 28

**Thessia**

Distracted she might be by Hiara's candid admission, Sanar realised they were heading towards familiar territory after a convoluted flight path through the densest traffic lanes in the city which included a landing at the amphitheatre and another at a very popular nightclub. Hiara's timing was astute, with so much goings and comings, it would take ample tracking groundwork and a host of trackers to stay on their tail. Or the most diligent wily spy who knew what Hiaras was about. She was certain there was some sort of jammer onboard the skycar to negate any bug that might have been placed in the vehicle. Thinking about that sent a shiver of a different sort up her spine; life as a lowly officer in the military was safer and mundane.

Faced with several options the moment she came of age, she had chosen to follow a more restrained path instead of running off to taste the wild flavours that streamed readily within easy reach. The discipline and demanding rigors of military training had presented a challenge she found irresistible and she dove into it with all the passion she could muster. Her reward was to graduate in the top ten with honours and sent to serve in one of the off world units. From one mission to another, from one planet to another, dealing with the various strata of the galactic community, it had been a fulfilling course, rich in flavours that she could possibly want. In the centuries that followed, she had steadily earned merit to be promoted and she had thought her life was all laid out before her; with her career established, she would eventually form a family and so on. The arrival of the Reapers changed that.

Implacable monstrous nightmares that tore apart everything that was the embodiment of life. Before her eyes, her homeworld was devastated, her compatriots fought and died and she had thought to join them soon. Even as she prepared herself for death, she had continued to put up resistance with the survivors from the other units. Attacking, retreating. Always retreating, scrapping up every bit of supplies and munitions from bolt-hole to bolt-hole. In the end, exhausted, weak from hunger, she had determined she would retreat no longer. There was only so much she could take. The next wave of attack would be her last. She remembered how she had glanced at her companions, bidding them a silent farewell and then had jumped up to launch the rockets remaining to her when one of them warned of incoming husks.

Wave after wave. There was no end to them and there never would, she knew. Not until every single sentient was wiped from the face of Thessia and beyond. With the approach of the Reaper destroyers on their flanks, the retreat was sounded but she had stayed. To die. But then, something miraculous happened and she could only stare open mouthed when husks froze and dropped. And the most amazing sight she would remember till the end of her life was Reapers, toppling thunderously to the ground and lying still, clouds of dust bellowing everywhere. There was silence, long and disbelieving, until someone screamed aloud with joy when the Reapers remained inert. She had cried then while her companions celebrated. Long and hard.

"If you're drunk again, the stream is where you'll go," a familiar acerbic voice abruptly shook her out of her memories.

Startled, she looked up. "Oh, er, Effia," she said belatedly when she realised who was looking down at her. Confused, she glanced around. Wasn't this the T'Soni estate?

"She's just a little tipsy," Hiaras said lightly, reaching out to pull Sanar out of the skycar. "I'll just see her to Aethyta."

"Up to your tricks again?" Effia snorted under her breath, frowning after them before beckoning to a hovering assistant to move the skycar elsewhere.

Befuddled, Sanar numbly allowed Hiaras to propel her down the hall, through a doorway and she was perched on top of a stool, facing Aethyta across a countertop before she knew it. To her bemusement, the matriach was polishing glasses. Why was she doing that? Aethyta threw a dirty look at Hiaras after seeing Sanar's cloudy eyes. Hiaras only shrugged, unrepentant. Looking under the countertop, Aethyta came up with a bottle, poured out a glass of almond-coloured liquid, put it before the young Asari and urged her to drink. It tasted strangely mild. The next thing Sanar knew, she was looking up at a ceiling. With a clearer mind.

"I hope Hiaras hasn't been ... rude."

Looking towards the voice, she saw Aethyta ensconced in an armchair near the window. "Did she have to do that?" she knew without a doubt Hiaras had drugged the wine.

"Hiaras is .. thorough. To the extreme I might add," Aethyta gestured to the armchair next to her. "Wouldn't trust her with my ass otherwise," she snorted as Sanar got up from the bed, rubbed a finger across a throbbing brow before sitting down in the chair. "We go back quite a little ways."

"A protege?"

"In a way. We didn't meet on the best of terms," a smile twitched a corner of Aethyta's lips. "Neither did you. Jumped on the first meeting, drugged on the second though I might add those are just milder forms of her getting-to-know-you. Nobody ever made it past the harder ones."

"I suppose the harsher forms would be ...," Sanar hesitated, not certain the older Asari was jesting.

"Rather rare at present. It might change," Aethyta said soberly. "Did you manage to get the information?"

"Yes," reaching into her tunic, Sanar removed a tiny datapod from a small hidden pocket and handed it over. "They're mostly what I can skim from records that are not destroyed."

"How far back did they go?"

"At least a few centuries," Sanar watched as Aethyta slipped the datapod into a datapad. "Could you clarify what you've said before?"

"About a rot within the Assembly?" Aethyta glanced up, to catch a look of anxiety that fleeted across her face. "The Assembly is basically what it is," she said conversationally, resuming her perusal of the datapad. "A gaggle of snotty blue assess coming together to decide larger policies for the good of the Asari. Better to talk it over than fight. When no consensus is reached, we just shove the problem to the side for the moment. Unlike some, the humans, for example, who may choose to take up arms. I'm not saying they fight as they like it," she continued before Sanar could question that statement. "I'm just pointing out the difference."

"We don't because eventually, a solution would present itself."

"True, enough, we can afford to examine the problem time and again and wait. They can't. They're culturally and socially more diverse than we are. That in itself, constitutes a prodigious hill to climb," Aethyta shook her head. "But we're not discussing the humans. As of now, three-quarters of the Assembly is made up of newly established parties while the rest are the old pre-war wind bags."

"Wind bags?"

"Uh huh, the kind that spouts speeches of no substance," disgust dripped heavily in Aethyta's tone, "and stymied any attempts to resolve the TI question."

"I don't understand."

"You have it right," putting the datapad aside, Aethyta got to her feet and paced over to the window. "We went through the most terrifying conflict against adversaries that we could hardly imagine and survive. We know exactly what they did to their victims. We know there is no cure for those who have become their slaves. There is no luxury of letting the problem simmer. It's right on our doorstep, not somewhere else in a far off system. The TI will die off eventually but not before they bring us down with them and and yet, there are those who choose to ignore these facts. Do you know that the motion to eliminate the TI was held to a stalemate?" she glanced over and nodded grimly at Sanar's astonishment. "That meant a quarter of the new parties chose to side with the old. This same quarter adopted the same stance as the rest of us when the new Assembly was convened. Within a space of a few days, they said something different when the issue of the TI was brought up."

"Is that why you want to see the lineage of my clan?" demanded Sanar uneasily, beginning to grasp the intent behind the odd request. No, surely her clan wouldn't controvert constructive policies that would restore Thessia.

"It's only a start," Aethyta said soothingly. "Something, someone compelled those groups to change their opinions. I have to know how, why and who are the ones dictating the course of the Assembly. If we fail to act soon, we may find ourselves without a home."

"How can that be, the military campaign was approved," objected Sanar. Surely it could not be as bad as she said.

"Only because of overwhelming evidence that the TI would overrun the cleared zones and even then, they were already regretting it," snorted Aethyta. "But they had to do something tangible, or the people will begin to question."

"The sabotages," breathed Sanar in disbelief, "at munitions. The death of the Alliance officer?"

"Oh don't give them credit for every mishap, they're not that greedy," Aethya said dryly. "It's fortunate the Alliance chose the practical approach than rustling up a huge storm but that doesn't mean they will not demand an answer once the TI are settled."

"So that's why the investigation was so quick."

"Indeed. Besides that incident, removing Zelenia from her post and put in someone more malleable is one of the Assembly's objectives however."

"That would complicate the training schedule," Sanar said worriedly.

"That is so," agreed Aethyta. "But it is difficult when Zelenia is an Izharia."

"No, I guess not," nodded Sanar. Trying to ditch one of the oldest living and much decorated commando would certainly call for extraordinary measures. Not very healthy for political parties in the long run. Another thought struck her. "Would they have ... tried to remove Shepard?"

"They're not as foolish as that," snorted Aethyta. "That'll call attention to themselves from every eye in the galactic community. They'll try to displace her somehow," she sighed. "Or do their best to hamper her. I'm glad she's somewhere else with my daughter. Away from this mess."

"Is that why Nyrine's being so difficult?"

"Nyrine's doing my bidding," turning away from the window, Aethyta returned to her chair and picked up the datapad. "She's there as bait, fertile candidate for anyone who's thinking of undermining efforts against the TI. But more importantly, she's there to prevent any incident to Shepard."

"I see." Sanar felt better at that revelation; she hadn't quite believed Nyrine was the hardheaded conservative she seemed to be. No one who had fought in the war could have survived believing in Asari supremacy. "There're centuries of information in there," she gestured to the datapad. "How are you going to find the answer?"

"It's not going to be easy," Aethyta agreed. "But that's better than to sit by doing nothing. To start with, there's one similar trait among the opposing parties that I found most interesting."

"They're the oldest clans that are usually nominated to the Assembly?" Literally the backbone of the Assembly actually and her clan was part of it. Sanar was not sure if she should start asking questions among her closest surviving family members. Being one of the youngest in pecking order, there was not much expected of her except to build up a creditable career and distinction.

"Very good," Aethyta smiled. "The oldest holds the most capacity to move people and events, relying on associations built on foundations laid long ago. They are said to be the wisest but I question that wisdom when they refused to work towards the greater good at the hour of need. Do you know the Geth have been asked to stop the cleansing?"

"What?!" Sanar nearly jumped to her feet at that shocking news. "But we need the Geth, how're we to clear away the Reaper remains and reclaim Thessia?"

"How indeed?" slapping the datapad lightly against her thigh, Aethyta frowned. "They were just starting to clear the Amali quardrant when they were halted."

"Why now?"

"Why Amali?" grinned Aethyta, without humour, throwing out another question in tandem. A click at the door drew her attention. "But that's for me to figure out. Right now, you need to rest," she gestured toward Hiaras who had entered the room. "Thank you, Sanar."

"What do you need me to do?" Sanar said quickly, standing as Aethyta made to leave.

"Exactly what you've been doing. Train the recruits as best you can and see that they assimilate the Alliance's doctrines as fast as possible," Aethyta tucked away the datapad in her robe before cupping her face gently in her hands. "Blessings on you, Sanar," she said, placing a light kiss on her brow. "Goddess watch over you," she caressed her cheeks gently before leaving.

Sitting down again in the armchair, Sanar ruminated over what she had learnt. To know that the Assembly was the main culprit behind the sabotages at the academy and likely responsible for the death of the Alliance officer was the most unpleasant way to have her opinions changed on the ruling body. She hadn't had that high regard for them before and now that lever of opinion had dropped all the way to the bottom. Some of their old pre-war policies were controversial at best but she never thought they would be so obstructive in the current crisis. She wished she had more information to impart. Something that would help Aethyta break the deadlock.

A glass was thrust under her nose. Startled, she looked up. "What're you trying now?" she said in annoyance, having forgotten Hiaras's presence.

"Something for your headache," Hiaras said softly, not at all put out by her anger. "This is Effia's work, not mine."

Reluctantly, she took the glass but did not drink it. "Why?"

"To throw off the watchers," Hiaras knew what she was asking. "They saw me put the drug in, I made sure of that."

"Who were they watching? Me? You?"

"Both," Hiaras crossed lazily to the window, leaning against the sill. "I doubt they think you know exactly who's behind the incident but they just want to be sure. As for me, they knew I'm working for Aethyta and probably suspects she wants to get hold of you to grill you to her heart's content. But since you know nothing," she shrugged.

There was nothing she could say to that and that peeved her somewhat. Looking suspiciously into the glass, she took a sip and then drained it; it was a medicinal tea she was familiar with. One that she usually took for mild aches. After a while, the throb in her head ebbed away.

"Better?" Hiaras said, watching her face.

"Yes," she said shortly.

"If it clears the air between us, I apologise."

For a moment, Sanar wanted to say something rude but she knew she couldn't entirely blame Hiaras. It would be entirely unfair to blame someone for doing her duty, even if she was on the receiving end of a couple of highly irregular knockouts.

She shook her head. "No, it's all right. I'm sorry, I'm tired."

"Then rest, I'll see you tomorrow," Hiaras smiled, moving past her to the door.

Shoulders slumped, she got to her feet and moved to the bed, tossing aside her long tunic and pants. A side effect of the tea was drowsiness and she could feel it. Coupled with fatique, she was ready to dive into the realms of dreams. It also reduced the ache within somewhat and she wondered why she was feeling disheartened. The bed felt soft and she settled into it with a sigh. Only to start when someone slid into the bed behind her.

"You're just full of surprises," she said when she realised who it was.

"And you, are just too highly strung," Hiaras laughed softly. "I meant what I said earlier at the carpark," she wound her arms around Sanar.

"We were drunk," Sanar objected, though she wasn't sure if Hiaras was.

"And speaking the truth. We need each other, whether you admit or not. The moment we touched," Hiaras murmured, "we felt it."

"It's...," she shivered when Hiaras nestled closer and plucked uneasily at the arms around her. It felt good to be held and settled the ache but she was not sure she should plunge into a relationship with Hiaras so quickly.

"Too soon, I agree. The usual road we shall take, shan't we?" sighed Hiaras. It had been too long. Five years hence? "Rest. We shall see the days ahead."

* * *

**Ilos**

When the freighters arrived, the fusion reactors they transported had to be brought in through the main bunker doors which had fortunately remained opened since Shepard's last visit. Otherwise, they would have to resort to placing explosives to clear the way. The Alliance engineers had to work their way down to the lower archives where they saw not a single sign of a corpse; Shepard had given orders that they were to be covered up and the road to the main complex was completely cleared. It had taken the best part of the day just to get both engineers and reactors to the complex and down to the power core facility beneath it.

Then the research team had spent most of the day twiddling their collective thumbs; unobstrusively collecting samples from various corpses. The marines were set to vid record every corpse that was dressed differently. A morbid task, they felt, which set them to sprout inelegant wisecracks at one another. After overhearing a conversation among the marines, Liara had asked Shepard about the Egyptians and her bondmate only looked blank. Having spent her childhood and youth in offworld Alliance depots, Shepard hadn't the slightest information to provide about Egyptians, except that thousands of years ago, they had built fascinating tombs and mummified their dead. That was enough to set Liara off to scour for every bit of data she could find.

Shepard had kept out of the researchers' way. With Module down at the power facility overseeing the charging process, she had chosen to stay at the research base, going over the latest reports. The sighting of the mysterious Normandy class ship set her teeth on edge and she did not like the implications about the potency of ships Cerberus would be able to throw at them. She was certain their science and military divisions had access to every Alliance technological upgrades and more. That would give them an edge in any major engagement. The question was how much resources were left to them. She checked her email for any messages from Miranda and was surprised to find one from Sanar.

It was an update on the recruits' progress and a note of apology for the unfortunate incident. Having read a missive from the Alliance on the matter in which TI involvement was hinted at, she was surprised to find a different account from Sanar. It brought to mind Aethyta's repeated criticisms of the Assembly. The bit about the Geth withheld from clearing Amali was another worrying sign that all was not well with the de facto ruling body. She was not certain what could be done and wondered that Aethyta had not tried to send any messages. Her omni-tool bleeped. A message from Module. Within minutes she roused the rest of the team and moving down to the lower archives.

The subterranean settlement was brighter. Lit with numerous portable lights brought in to ease the passage of the fusion reactors, they served to emphasize the depth and extent of the place, besides highlighting the amount of dust that had accumulated and coated the buildings. Not so much had there been atmosphere but sealed in vacuum, they were close to retaining their original state that Liara was sorely tempted to peek into one of the buildings. She reined in her desire and kept up with the rest to make it to the complex quickly. It was well lit and they passed through the corridors easily before climbing down the stairs to the power core facility which was a round room filled with columns that housed the power pipelines that converged on the power core in the middle of the room. Several lines snaked from the fusion generators to several outlets in the core.

Where it was silent, now it was filled with the sound of the fusion generators. The engineers stood with Module at the only terminal in front of the core. It was lit but none attempted to touch it. The words were foreign to them. Shepard hesitated; she was of a mind to ask Liara to try interpreting the hieroglyphics. Sensing her intent, Liara moved towards the terminal, nodding graciously when the group around it retreated before examining the script. She understood Shepard's reluctance, she had shared that brief strange memory with her during their rest period and was as similarly disturbed. It had seemed her bondmate was sharing an existence with someone from the past and she had no idea if this persona, this Cipher, was a conscious entity. Thus far, it had seemed to come to "life" when there was need for it, otherwise, it had remained dormant. Was there one or more within this Cipher? Neither of them knew but they need to find out.

"I recognised only a few words," she said apologetically, without looking at Shepard who sighed silently. "Most of it seems to be technical terms."

Casting a hard look at Shepard, Kedar kept silent but fidgetted. Peliar only stared at her; almost tapping her foot. There was an air of expectancy and yet distrust.

_Well fuck them, this is my problem, not theirs._

Ignoring their gaze; the engineers were looking at them in puzzlement, Shepard stepped up to the terminal. _Well, whoever you are, help me out again._ The script hazed. Quickly, she activated the console, scrolling past the technical jargon, calling up another menu before she came to the data she was looking for.

**Emergency protocols cancelled.**

**Disconnection at central.**

**Auxiliary core functional. Main core inoperative.**

Frowning, she tapped out an inquiry, fingers moving smoothly across the keys. The engineers watched in astonishment and jumped when a deep hum resounded through the room, drowning out the fusion generators.

**Main valves opened. Transference initiated.**

**Power and thermal control online.**

**Life support online.**

**Warning. Power conduits at half capacity. Storage units offline. Mainframe degradation. Maintenance required.**

"Computer mainframe is damaged," she said, aware that the others were waiting for her to say something. The room suddenly flashed. Everyone ducked instinctively, expecting an explosion but nothing happened. Looking up, she realised the lights of the facility had turned on.

"Reading increasing atmosphere," Module said, its eye looking around them. "Estimate two hours to complete rehabitation of facility."

"That's nice," she muttered, returning to the terminal. "This is just the auxiliary core, the main core is not here. Neither, I think, is the mainframe."

"Where is?" Kedar asked urgently.

"Hold your horses," Shepard said. Horses? Liara tried to recall where she had heard of horses. "Well, I found a map."

"Excellent! Go, at once, to core."

It sounded like an order except for the fact that Kedar was visibly quivering with excitement. Liara whimsically thought of a hamster treadmilling at triple speed after a period of moribund activity. For the Salarian had been somewhat indolent for the last 24 hours and it was clear he was not at all happy about it. Due to, she suspected, the constraints laid down on the researchers not to foray at will within the archives or the settlement. They had been limited to analysing whatever samples they had taken from the corpses. It was unfortunate but they had to be reined in for fear of sabotages. There had been meddling signs around the generators up top, but as far as she could ascertain, the code had not been tampered with. Whoever it was that was poking around, was testing the waters. She pulled her attention back to Shepard when she spoke.

"Well, if the lifts are working."

Taking one last look at the map, Shepard closed off the console before issuing an order to the engineers to remain, to monitor the power output of the fusion generators before going out of the room. Instead of turning to the stairs, she led them down the passage outside, now lit. There was just a door at the end of the passage. Palming it opened, she found herself looking at a three metre wide tunnel with monorail that ran into the far distance. Sitting on the tracks before them was a ten seat open-air vehicle.

"I guess this is our ride," she said before looking at Module.

"I will have to crouch, four back seats will do," it said.

"Right, that means," Shepard glanced at the marines, "you guys stay here."

"There's room for two, sir," Foster pointed out.

"It's alright," Shepard nodded, acknowledging his unspoken worry. "Keep coms open," she waved the others to get into the vehicle and watched as Module somehow fold itself across four seats. It would not be able to buckle in but she had no doubt Module would be hard to dislodge. Buckling herself into the first seat, she tapped the small keyboard set into the front railing. A soft hiss was heard and the vehicle lifted slightly. Lights blazed into life down the tunnel before the vehicle slid off smoothly down the track. Leaning back in her seat, she clasped Liara's hand.

_Nervous?_

_Do I feel like I am nervous?_

_No, I think you're ready to do the victory dance with Kedar. He's sharpening his claws to dive in and wrench out what he wants._

_Perhaps. {sombre} We are both not getting any good vibes from home._

_Damn, you heard?_

_Alot. I really do not know what to think about the Assembly._

_Aethyta didn't get back to you?_

_I think she is reluctant to say exactly what is plaguing them on an open channel. That or she just wants me to stay out of the way._

_It's probably both. I think..._

Shepard broke off when the end of the monorail drew up and the vehicle stopped. Looking left and right, she unbuckled herself and stepped out to the platform on her left, reaching to help Liara out. A short passage with a round closed door lay beyond. Kedar trotted to the door, searching around before Shepard could say anything. Unlikely as it was he would be attacked by anything, he was likely to trigger off any security protocols if he were not careful. Shepard decided she would have a word with him privately later.

"Shepard, terminal!" he waved at her, pointing to a console set into the curve of the door.

_Here we go again._

She almost bashed in the keys when she was asked to input a code. Without waiting for that familiar vertigo, she tapped in the code she had used at the door to the settlement.

_Damn it, I can almost read this script all by myself. And voila. Open door! Yes and thank you._

She thought petulantly as the door rolled aside and hurriedly grabbed hold of Kedar by the back of his collar before he galloped through.

"Sorry Kedar," she wasn't sorry at all actually. "But a little prudence on your part could see us a long way through."

It was as if she had pricked a balloon for he seemed to slump. "Apologies," he said quietly. "Go to head, excitement."

"Yes well." Perhaps it was anxiety, not excitement, for looking into his eyes, she discerned an underlying sorrow. "Let's just be careful." What news had he received from home?

"Shepard, look," Liara said.

There was nothing beyond the round door. Except for a dimly lit extended walkway. Gingerly, Shepard stepped onto it and winced as lights blossomed. The helmet visor sensors adjusted quickly.

_Wow._

Everyone stared before following her out. The shaft of the archives loomed around them, towering high above their heads. Lights now dotted all around, highlighting the cryogenic pods. Looking down, Liara felt she would fall. For the depths were now revealed. Reaching up towards the walkway were numerous columns of various sizes and shapes. Shimmering faintly at the bottom was an enormous globe. Was that the true core of the entire facility? She felt as if she was hanging in the middle of an abyss. If the walkway should crumble, they would all fall to their deaths. Why had the Protheans dug so deep?

The walkway ended with a small platform. Standing on it was a pedestal. Shepard regarded it uneasily for she recognised it as a scanning interface. But she couldn't very well turn away when they had come so far. Reluctantly, she placed her hand on it. It flashed green.

**Acknowledged. Access granted.**

There was a thrum and the walkway shook. Frightened, Kedar and Pelair grabbed fast of the nearest solid handhold. Which incidentally was Module who only glanced at the two of them before looking over the edge. Shepard caught hold of Liara's hand even as she reached out for the railing around the platform.

_The columns. They are rising. {excitement}_


	29. Chapter 29

**Words of note**

**Foundations : essentially the slums, located in the layer between the wards and the outer hull of the space station. Recycling and power stations are located in these zones.**

**SAR : search and rescue**

**GS : gunships**

* * *

**Local Cluster, Earth, Citadel**

The common grouse often bruited was how and why the Presidium was given exclusive precedence during restoration. Discrimination was the oft used watchword. Exploitation was the other. To Langdon, it was just a case of steam venting. The general populace had not fully grasped the principle behind the Keepers' modus operandi; the Presidium would always be the first place they see to. In a way, it could be said the Presidium was their stomping ground. It was where they were in abundance compared to other wards. Hence, it was of no surprise to those who understood the function of the Keepers to find that the Presidium was repaired more quickly and efficiently. The other place that received as much attention was the Foundations which no one in the upper wards was likely to pay any mind to but if they had, they would have been surprised. The denizens of Foundations however, didn't much care, as long as their bellies were full.

Walking through the Presidium Commons, it was hard to imagine what it had been like two years ago. The restoration was near faultless. The lake was cleansed and filled with fresh clear water. Fields and gardens were blooming, surviving flocks of birds once more added their warbles to the gentle touches of breeze and sprinkling swoosh of the fountains. Shops were opened, mostly trading in commodities rather than luxury goods though there were several small outlets that dealt with miscellenous merchandise.

It was not very crowded along the commons. With lunch hour over, most had returned to their occupations and chores. He took his time, strolling and taking in the surroundings which were more gratifying than the stark bleakness of his office. An occasional passing Alliance marine or C-Sec officer would throw him a salute which he acknowledged but mostly, those about were traders, bankers, with the usual browsing shoppers. Pausing for a moment, he looked across the lake. The Conduit monument gleamed in the artificial sunlight. Of all the monuments, it was the only one that was not destroyed though the inner discs were damaged. Only a few knew why it was left untouched for it was not a really monument but an actual mass relay that was built by the Protheans.

_That's a ticking time bomb. One of these days, some idiot will think it a fine idea to blow it up to make some sort of stupid statement, never knowing what it will do._

With no one proficient or knowledgeable in mass relay systems, it had been left as it was after the Battle of the Citadel even though the Council had discussed removing it. Any attempt would have to be made in the future. The conduit on Ilos was guarded even though hardly anyone, except approved scientists were allowed on the planet and even they, had limited access. It was to be hoped no one would ever figure out the back door to the Citadel. Shaking his head, he continued on to his destination; the Apollo's Cafe. Having missed lunch, he thought he'd take a walk and swing by to pick something up. The cafe attendant handed him a menu datapad at the counter when he explained what he wanted. A year ago, he would have been asked for his ration chit. With the stabilization of food yields and supply, eateries could once more offer a variety of dishes instead of dry rations and energy bars. Whistling soundlessly, he scrolled through the selection, hesitated and opted for an Asari olio lunch set.

As he waited for his order to be filled, he glanced around the cafe. It was a typical crowd found anywhere. His eyes lingered on a few couples; a mixture of humans and Asari pairings, and felt more keenly of his losses. Heaving a sigh, he turned away to fix his eyes on the apartments across the lake. Most of the tenants would never return, leaving quite a number of apartments empty. Despite the vacancies, security concerns had curtailed any plans to market them out. Sometimes, he felt like he was moving through a ghost town when his footsteps echoed through the corridors. His omni-tool bleeped. Irritably, he moved to cut off the call; he had told his assistant to hold all messages. However, he changed his mind after another look.

Tabbing the answer key, he said, "Councillor."

"Admiral, if you have some time to spare now, could you come to my office? I have that contact you wanted," said Tevos.

"I'm on my way," he nodded. Just in time too, he slapped his credit chit on the payment scanner, grabbed the lunch carton the cafe attendant placed in front of him and made for the elevator to take him to the embassies. The elevator, when it arrived, was empty. He leaned against the wall, assembling his thoughts.

The contact would have to be Aria. Trust Tevos to get in touch with her herself than give him a number. He wasn't surprised the pirate queen preferred to keep a very low profile, leaving her flunkies to run interference. Up until two years ago, he had never even heard of her. He was sure the old man hadn't either till Shepard presented him the surprise reinforcements Aria had gathered towards the war effort. Riffraffs he wouldn't have thought capable of standing up to the challenges but then, with their backs up against the wall, they didn't really have a choice. That's the one good thing about the Reapers, they slammed armageddon down everyone's throats irregardless of who they were and shook up the entire galactic community out of their cloying existence.

Hastily, he tugged at the bottom of his tunic as the elevator came to a stop and strolled through the doors and down the corridor with measured steps, carefully avoiding embassy staff. It would not do to have an accident with the lunch carton. Tevos's assistant smiled when he entered the Asari embassy and conducted him courteously to her office.

Tevos looked up from her console at his entrance. "Admiral, I've someone here who is most keen to have a word with you," she said without preamble, turning the console to face him and waving him to sit at the chair before her desk. The assistant withdrew and she moved away to the farthest window, leaving him to converse alone.

Feeling a little out of his depth now he was facing the pirate queen, he wasn't sure how he should start off. The steely eye, purple hued, with graceful facial markings, face was forbidding. Certainly not a person who suffered fools gladly. As if she knew of his discomfiture, she smiled faintly.

"Let's cut to the chase, shall we?" she said. "An equatable exchange to suit each other's needs."

_What makes you think you have what we need?_ He shoved the irate response down and said instead, "What are you proposing?"

"You need information on possible Cerberus sightings or movements in the Omega Nebula. I can provide several months of data for the Alliance to peruse, including a more recent scoop which should be of great interest."

"What do you want in return?" he stamped down on the desire to ask about the scoop. Not without knowing what she was angling for.

"Just one item of note," she leaned closer to the pickup on her end. "Omega."

Incredulity swept over him. The gall of this woman to demand such a thing! Derision welled up but he forced it down. "Omega is not within Alliance's jurisdiction or holds any relevance in current policies," he said woodenly.

"Of the first, everyone knows that," she smirked, "and policies are as fickle as the heart. Omega is relevant, to everyone."

"From your point of view," he couldn't help himself, her smug confidence was punching all his pique buttons. "In your hidey hole?"

A soft cough behind him brought his head around. Tevos was looking at him and shaking her head emphatically. Privy to every word, she knew the human was not taking to Aria positively. In light of his inexperience, she was not surprised. A hint of caution would be beneficial; for everyone's sake. She wondered if he would take the warning or continued to blunder on. The sour look in his eyes cleared as he gazed at her. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to the console. Aria only looked on with amusement, well aware of who was prompting behind him.

"What about Omega?" he tried again, toning down his aggravation.

Her smile widened slightly. "I can use some _muscle_ in throwing out unwanted tenants."

"That is ... difficult. Omega is...," he began, ignoring the gibe. The size of that space station was daunting. The amount of menpower and resources required was beyond their scope even if they had them to spare.

"I am well aware of the difficulties," she interrupted. "I am ... flexible," her brow raised suggestively, "to any suggestion."

He wished the old man hadn't thrown it to him. Ten to one, this tawdry Asari vamp would have adopted a different approach if she was negotiating with Hackett. "I have to discuss this with my superiors," he said, knowing he hadn't been able to get any fingertip of control. Damn it, he had no leg to stand on right from the start. She had all the cards and he had none.

"Time is relative," she settled back against her seat. "Spend it wisely. As a token of anticipation of our forthcoming cooperation, the latest data is available to you."

"That would be much appreciated," he said evenly.

"Tevos has it," Aria looked to the side, seemingly bored. "Give my regards to Admiral Hackett and tell him ... I can use Shepard's aid."

The vid went blank and he stared at it as Tevos returned to her desk.

"Would you like to sit down, Admiral?" she said, looking up at him.

It was then he realised he had conducted the entire conversation on his feet, with the lunch carton in his hand. Seeing Aria had set his instincts to attempt to gain a quasi-superior stance which failed rather miserably. Snorting at his own initial presumption that the dialogue would be under his domination, he sat down reluctantly.

"It is well you ...," Tevos hesitated, "come to an understanding because the Alliance must know what has occurred."

"What do you mean?" he tensed, feeling that he was not going to like what she was going to tell him.

"24 hours ago, an engagement was observed at the asteriod belt in the the Dirada System. The transponder beacon identified the ship that was destroyed as an Alliance frigate."

"What?!" He leapt to is feet. "That's impossible. No report of any missing Alliance ship had...," he froze. He hadn't been in his office for the last 18 hours. Tired out by his long stint at the office, he had told his staff not to disturb him, short of a return of the Reapers, and had slept like the dead. Inwardly, he cursed at himself.

"This is the data that was sent," she proffered a datapod. He stared at it blankly for a moment before taking it.

"Can this be...," he began doubtfully. How much credence should he put in that woman? How had she come by this information?

"Aria T'Loak has no cause to dispense misleading data to the Alliance. Not when she herself is in need of aid," Tevos said matter of factly. "She has ... sufficient resources to gather credible intelligence."

"But not enough to retake Omega," he said grimly, looked down at the datapod and clenched his fingers around it. An Alliance frigate destroyed. That meant the entire crew had probably died as well. Anger began to burn. "Thank you, Councilor. Your aid is much appreciated," he turned to go before remembering the lunch carton he was still holding. "Have you had lunch, Councilor?"

His question caught her off guard. "No," she said and looked at the lunch carton he placed before her.

"A token of my thanks, Councillor," he nodded to her and strode quickly out of the office before she could stop him. He had no appettite any more, so why let it go to waste?

Behind him, Tevos checked the contents of the carton and was surprised to find it was an olio lunch set. It was probably meant to be his midday meal, she guessed rightly. The human was obviously too upset to eat and she empathised. Under the same circumstances, neither would she. Regarding the food for a moment, it was still piping hot, she messaged her assistant not to bother with getting lunch for her and settled down to enjoy a free meal. She would prefer to deal with the tasks piling up each day fully fortified than with an empty stomach. A thought crossed her mind. Impromptu though his gift was, she would have to return it in kind. Eventually.

* * *

**Ilos**

_No. We are descending. Look._

At Shepard's urging, Liara looked back at the junction of the walkway where it was connected to the door and saw her bondmate was right. The door was now at a height above them and getting higher. How far down would they go? Around them, the columns continued to rise until they were towering at least three storeys above them. The walkway halted.

"How are we to reach them?" Liara said anxiously for the columns were several metres away.

"I've no ...," began Shepard, eyeing the pedestal which had gone dark and turned when Kedar sidled to the edge. For a moment, she thought he was going to jump off but he halted and retreated when a slight tremor was felt.

Before long, a circular floor with several dark terminals around the edges rose. Metallic snaps were heard as the bolts snicked home to couplings beneath the pedestal platform. The railing around the platform sank down, allowing them access. Without fanfare, the terminals and the columns glowed dimly as connections were made. Eyes wide, Liara let go of Shepard's hand and stepped onto the floor.

Kedar practically leapt past her for one of the terminals. He couldn't read Prothean script but the translator had been updated with Liara and Javik's help. It was enough leverage for him to work with provided he didn't run into encrypted data that required codes. In which case, wasn't it fortunate Shepard was around? Suspicious he might be of her for not sharing whatever it was that was allowing her to understand Prothean and circumventing blocks so smoothly, the number of days they would have to spend working through each problem that presented itself in their quest was vastly reduced. He was willing to overlook the underlying lack of faith that had dogged the expedition as long as they obtained the objectives. Patient he had been, hanging back to let the captain and Liara take the lead but now, the answer was close at hand and he was going to get it.

To his disappointment, after fiddling with the translator, he found himself balked by the single displayed line - Mainframe degradation. So close!

"Problem Kedar?" Peliar said archly, observing his sudden inactivity. It had been somewhat amusing to watch him gloomed and moped about the past two days, held captive by the necessary retraints of security measures. The Salarians' incessant industry, Kedar's especially, and contentions had been trying in such close quarters that her colleagues had been tempted to try working from the Alliance cruiser instead. At least the humans kept reasonable hours.

"Of the moment," he blinked at her, eyelids drawn up.

"It is as you said, Shepard," Liara moved to the nearest terminal, carefully tabbing to bring a console online. "There is damage within the mainframe. Sub systems are also not accessible," she tried to bring up another table of contents and shook her head when that failed. "Unless it is repaired, I do not think we can gain access to anything."

"Let's hope the circuits are not fried," said Shepard, visually examining the terminals. "I don't think we have the hardware for any replacements, much less the technical expertise to do it," she approached the central terminal. It was beneath the largest column of the group. "I'd say this is the doorway to the mainframe." To be absolutely certain, she checked the console and keyed in the required code. Her frustration with her inner demon was momentarily forgotten as a list of errors appeared. "It's your ball game, Module," she stepped back, yielding her place to the Prime.

"I shall do my best to hit a home run," it said, its eyeflaps waving circularly at her before turning to the console as the rest watched keenly.

Was that levity? She smiled sadly when Module broughts its hands over the console and tiny electric charges began to roam over it. The sight reminded her of Legion in the derelict Reaper's mass effect core. How much of Legion was in Module? She had caught the Prime making moves reminiscence to Legion's quirky steps it would do when the squad was on downtime. When questioned, Legion had said it was a form of an old human dance that mimicked the locomotion of clunky obsolete automatons. She had thought it rather charming but bizarre; a machine aping the motions of machines. Module had only said it was something it had picked up when she questioned it and refused to elucidate when prodded further.

_So, Legion, I guess that dancing part of you still lives on among the Geth._

"Sub programs uploaded successfully." The group heaved a sigh of relief at that statement. Prematurely. "Initial diagnosis shows extensive damage in all capacity. More measures may be required," it added after a moment.

"Is it software or hardware?" said Liara, moving closer to look at the flowing data. It was going too fast for her to discern more than a word or two.

"System softwares are fragmentary and required splicing," removing its hands from the console, Module turned to face Shepard. "I will have to upload into the mainframe."

"Have you considered that your programs might be too disparate?" put in Liara before Shepard could say anything.

"We have discussed this possibility," Module examined the expressions on their faces. Such an interesting assorted display. Organics were so expressive, from words to postures. Even if they said nothing, much could be gleaned from their silence. The ones who would say the least tend to be older and composed whilst the younger ones were more articulate, freely giving vent to their passions. After centuries of isolation behind the Perseus Veil, observing and stripping every available data to learn more about the organics, interacting firsthand with them was a stimulating augmentation to comprehension about the lifeform.

Right now, it correctly gauged the atmosphere as one of expectation. With apprehension and anxiety from Liara and Shepard. It felt somewhat gratified, if it can called that. It could not define exactly which particular part of itself was creating the set of algorithms but it had often occurred most with humans. As curious as it was about them, they were just as fascinated. For those who were willing to accept its presence, they found they could converse about anything with it for it was like a sponge. Absorbing readily whatever they threw out, even if it was offfensive. One of the marines in the expedition had even taught cat's cradle to while the time. No one tried to play poker with Module however; that flashlight was just really too deadpan. One wit had suggested putting slips of coded coloured paper on those lifting eyeflaps so they would know exactly what it was thinking if they really have to play the game.

"This is the only option?" Shepard felt she had to ask again, not liking the idea much since there was a chance it would fail and they might lose the Prime altogether if something went wrong and it failed to withdraw from the mainframe intact.

"No, but it is the fastest path to restore the entire system," Module waited patiently for a decision.

"Willing to do it, should take," Kedar urged and crossed his arms when Shepard glared at him. He thought to add more but decided to keep his peace. Peliar, as usual, said nothing. Seemingly indifferent, an attitude Shepard found to be most baffling. Thus far, she hadn't been able to engage her in any significant discourse

"How long would the process take," she said finally.

"I estimate several hours."

Shepard knew she was waffling to no purpose. This outcome had been anticipated and what steps they would have to take had been discussed onboard the Glasgow. It was just that, she didn't much like the idea of losing the Prime, or anyone else of that matter, on the mission. She caught Liara's eye, there was an encouraging gleam in them, and she sighed.

"All right," she said and added as Module turned back to the console, hands raised. "Be careful in there and good luck."

"Acknowledged."

* * *

**Thessia**

Three hours to dawn. The chair creaked softly as she leaned back, stretching stiff muscles on her spine. Finding it insufficient, she got up and began to do a series of bends to limber up. From her neck, to her fingers to the toes. It felt good to be moving after sitting for so long. Keeping one eye on the console, she began a series of floor exercises. A noise from the door brought her to her feet in a flash. Her gaze met a pair of laughing brown eyes and she almost missed the flying package thrown at her.

"Hungry?"

Corporal Gallia dropped her helmet into the vacant chair before moving to check the console. The green status of the perimeter brought forth a soft whistling tune. Opening the package, the aroma of hot crumbly buttery jam biscuits drifted to her nose, tickling her apettite and she sank her teeth into one with gusto. It had been hours since her last meal.

"So where's Nervia?" Without turning around, Gallia knew Pulchia was already nibbling away and grinned; the Asari had developed quite a taste for biscuits and had often importunate her to bake whenever she was off duty.

"Restroom break," she managed to mumble past a mouthful of biscuits, reaching past Gallia for the flask of water on the small counter and took a drink.

"She's gonna be mighty pissed if you finish all that," warned Gallia, dropping into an adjacent chair before bringing up sensor readings.

"Not if you tell her," she sat down, moving Gallia's helmet to the counter, munching more slowly but she closed off the package and put it beside the flask. "Strawberry?" she licked a bit of jam off her lips.

"Close," Gallia tossed a grin at her before turning her attention back to her console. "Cherry. I managed to trade a few off the kitchen chief."

"With what?"

"What you've been eating. Made several batches before I came here."

"And how many hours rack time?" Pulchia said scoldingly, pausing to scrutinise the human.

"Ah, who cares about that," Gallia snorted. "I sleep when I want."

"Gallie...," began Pulchia worriedly but the snick of the door interrupted her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Nervia who wagged a flask at her.

"Aspia in tower three sent this with her compliments," she handed it to Pulchia, "something to take the blunt off Amali."

"Yeah, I heard something about that," Gallia swivelled in her chair to face the two of them. "Why'd the hell you people pulled the Geth off?"

"If I knew the answer, I wouldn't be sitting here," face darkening, Pulchia uncapped the flask and took a sip. "Here," she thrust the flask at Gallia.

Sniffing at it, her brows shot up. "You're kidding, we're on duty ..."

"So pass it to Nervia," snapped Pulchia. The mention of Amali was a touchy subject to her nowadays. "They didn't care about Thessia, why should I care about getting drunk on duty."

"C'mon, maybe they ran into a little bit of problem," Gallia said soothingly.

"According to them, we seemed to be running into problems right from the onstart. How else to explain the great disparity of recovery between Thessia and the other homeworlds?"

"I heard it whisper that the old ones are behind it," murmured Nervia unhappily.

"By the Goddess, when have they ever not been behind everything?" Pulchia retorted. "From taking their time to decide whether to accept the Geth's offer to help with the cleansing to deciding whether we ought to push back the TI. How long did _they_ take to decide which zone to recover first?" she stared at the both of them who offered no answer. "_Three months_. Three months in which practically everyone else has already cleared their first district and resettling. Do they sound like they're making rational decisions? No! I say, no, they're not. Instead of fighting to take back our home, we're trying to hang on to what we have..."

The strident blare was a shocking disruption. Before they could recover, several loud thunderous booms went off outside. Gallia grabbed her helmet off the counter and jammed it on while the others dove for their own, hanging on the rack behind them.

"Shields!" Gallia shouted, hitting the console before her. The display was awashed with red icons.

"Online! Gardians at maximum. Drone 26, 28 destroyed," her rage forgotten, Pulchia concentrated on the status of the defenses. "Turrets hot."

"Towers 1 - 8 report they're under attack. GS units engaging enemy vehicles," Nervia said.

"Shit, they're really coming," Gallia muttered, eyes wide at the number of TI that were rushing the perimeter. "Going up top."

She leapt from her chair and climbed the ladder at the back of the watch tower. A blast went off above her and she ducked instinctively. Nothing reached her however, the tower shields prevented projectiles from reaching it. She hurried to the observation post and was astounded at the sight; the sky filled with skycars and gunships. Strobes of lights pulsed everywhere as Gardian turrets fired on them. Several exploded or slammed into the ground but the rest kept coming. At this rate, the Gardian turrets would soon go offline.

"Tower 5 to Control, request ground reinforcements," she hit her comlink to command channel.

"Tower 5, Eta en route, two minutes," came the reply.

Fervently, she hoped they wouldn't need the troops but she knew it was highly unlikely, given the numbers she was seeing. The turret gun crews were already firing on advancing forces that would soon reach the barricades. Gunships screamed over her head, joining in the fray.

"Tower 2 reports barricade breach," came Nervia's voice over the comlink. "Ground forces engaging."

Shit. Fuck. If they failed to push them back, they would lose the spaceport. Anxiously, she scanned the ground, linking in to the gun turrets to direct fire on TI that were close. A flurry of movements behind the barricade drew her attention. To her relief, it was the Eta unit, reserved Alliance marines pulled from the spaceport. With efficiency, they took up positions and began to add their firepower to the gun turrets. She couldn't tell how many TI were out there and how many had died, the darkness obscured them but she knew there were still many relentlessly approaching; the multitude of sparks going off like fireworks seemed continuous.

"Gardian turrets offline!"

She threw herself down when she saw several gunships converging on the tower, shouting over the comlink to the others to buckle in. The tower shook time and again as rockets slammed against it. It reminded her of the time when she was caught up in the tree when she was a child, with a large brown bear at the bottom, growling and batting away. She had waited then, for the bear to go away but it didn't and she would have been stuck there if her parents had not come looking for her. Right then, she wondered who was coming to pluck them out of the fire. A different thrumming sound caught her attention. On looking up, she began to laugh hysterically. Geth dropships had dropped in on the action. As if aware they didn't have a chance, the TI began to withdraw and the sounds of firing explosions lessened.

Jumping to her feet, she made for the ladder and literally skimmed down to fall on top of Pulchia who was coming to check on her.

"Ouch!"

"Same here," Gallia sat up, rubbing her ankle, certain she had twisted it.

"That was...," Nervia looked stun, as if she couldn't believe what had just happened.

"Tower 5, this is Control."

Hitting her comlink, Gallia said, "Tower 5, go."

"Confirm area clear."

Getting to her feet, Gallia checked the console readings and affirmed that all hostiles had retreated.

"SAR units en route, coordinate ground forces actual."

After acknowledging the order, Gallia removed her helmet and raked her sweat drenched hair back. She spotted the wine flask on the floor and picked it up. Shaking it, she uncapped it and took a mouthful before handing it to Nervia who took a long swig.

"So what just happened?" Pulchia stared into the flask after drinking her share. "They've never attacked with such ferocity before."

"Or in such numbers," Nervia rubbed her crest thoughtfully.

"You know what," Gallia said gravely. "You guys have better get your act together or man, you're gonna not have a home."


	30. Chapter 30

**Unknown Location**

Lights glimmered softly in the ceiling, more of an adornment than executing their honest function. That task was performed by the fiery brilliance of the stars outside that turned the room into a myriad of orange hues that bounced off the shining black flooring. Feet padding quietly over the floor, the servitors filled wine glasses, removed dirty dishes and bore in every succeeding course with brisk efficiency. The three diners did not speak, polishing off Deviled eggs, vichyssoise, garden salad, lamb rib chops and petits fours. The only sound in the room was the music that played softly in the background and the clink of cutlery and glasses. Finally, all the dishes were taken away and the diners sat back, nursing cups of coffee.

The diner sitting at the head of the dining table lit up a cigarette, drawing in the smoke deeply before exhaling. His heavy jowl creased into folds as he glanced at his companions. They looked back impassively, eyes veiled.

"Regretable," he said simply.

"It is inevitable there would be incidents the moment we moved the units out," the thin bearded man on his left shrugged. "Insufficient congeries in the trade exchange is also baring our activities."

"Who's nosing around?" the square-jaw diner opposite him reached for a grape from the bowl of fruit sitting between them and popped it into his mouth.

"A Drell minion of the Shadow Broker plus some feelers from the Alliance."

"The Shadow Broker," Square-jaw chuckled. "I'm surprised he's even trying to revive the old network, considering most of them are goo."

"He could eventually be a problem," Bearded man took sip of his coffee, "it's too bad our mentor didn't share what he knew or we could have put him down in the chaos."

"You give too much credence in his abilities," Square-jaw said dismissively. "And the Alliance are just old dodgers. They're too busy trying to clean up their own backyard," he looked at Heavy-jowl who had said nothing. "I recommend we move the time table forward."

"I wouldn't dismiss the Alliance prematurely," Bearded man frowned gravely at square-jaw.

"A weak dog can still bite," Heavy-jowl stubbed out the cigarette in the ash-tray before him, reached for his wine glass and drained it. The moment he put it on the table, the servitor that stood nearby quickly moved forward to refill it from the bottle she was holding and moved back to her position, her eyes a total glazing blue with no pupil, streaks of black could be seen creeping up her neck. Square-jaw gazed at her for several seconds, feeling a desire to speak to her and wondered why.

"What should we do then?" he said carefully, shifting his attention back to the others.

"Keep to the schedule," Heavy-jowl eyed the man with faint distaste. "Move the units that were involved in those incidents to reserve depots. With the Alliance sniffing around to pick up our trail, we should lie low," he looked at bearded man, "and that means all acquisitions should cease for the moment."

"Already done," Bearded man said placidly and smiled sneeringly at Square-jaw, pleased to have scored a point.

"Should we try again for our old contacts?" Square-jaw tried to keep his displeasure from showing. "We are sorely in need of intelligence within."

"A waste of time," Bearded man ignored the glare directed at him.

"They'll come around," Heavy-jowl rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Once we successfully claim the first region, they will see we have humanity's interests at heart and give us their support. Then we shall make true our mentor's vision; humanity at the forefront of the galactic community. Humanity shall lead and the rest shall follow or be kicked to the wayside. Humanity..."

"What about Shepard?" Square-jaw tried not to smirk as Heavy-jowl's homily was cut short. It was a speech they were familiar with, their "beloved" de facto leader loved to trot it out whenever they meet and he was tired of it.

"That bitch ...will suffer for our mentor's death," Heavy-jowl inhaled heavily and then winced, rubbing his head. "Eventually. We will take all that she treasures and make her suffer, as we have suffered."

"Eventually?" Square-jaw crossed his arms. "I'm thinking we should remove her as soon as possible before we take that first big step."

"I agree," Bearded man nodded. "She's dangerous and could upset our plans."

"And is one of you going to do it?" Heavy-jowl inquired silkily. "Name me one sound agent we have that could pass the gauntlet of security check points and I will readily make sure it happens," he stared coldly at them when they said nothing. "No? Then be silent. Our mentor's mistake was to convert most of the agents too quickly. The rest either died when the Alliance attacked Crono's Station or ended up as fodder for the Reapers. Shepard can wait because she will come to us. Once we begin our conquest, she will be leading the fight and we will get her. Make no mistake," he stared at them to emphasize his point before glancing at the chronometer set into the table at his side. "It's time for you to return to your duties."

Without a word, the other two men got to their feet and walked towards the door. Square-jaw tried to remember what he was thinking earlier and couldn't. At the moment, he knew he should return to his post. He paused at the door and looked back to see the female servitor putting the bottle she was holding on the table before kneeling down between the legs of Heavy-jowl. A spasm crossed his face, anger flared; he felt he should do something, and then sudddenly the anger died. He tried once more to grasp that fleeting memory. He shook his head, blinking in confusion, shrugged and closed the door behind him.

* * *

**Thessia**

"You should not have done it if you knew not what you're doing."

There was a sharp bite in the cold censuring voice. Ordinarily, to be summoned to an audience with the principal authority of the T'Enaire clan would set Sanar to poise herself with tractability. As it was, she stood respectfully but with her head on the level, meeting the gaze of the elder Asari calmly. That in itself was enough to set the tone of the meeting, held at one of the rooms in the apartment blocks allocated to the clan, to one of dispute. The conversation thus far, had remained cool though strained when Sanar refused to admit that what she had done was a mistake.

"I am aware of what I have done," Sanar watched the faces of the Asari attending the elder but could not discern what they were thinking. Not a single expression could be seen on their countenance for the past half hour. Only the gleam of their eyes belied any thought that they had seen and heard nothing. "I have an obligation that cannot be ignored."

"Your obligation is to your clan! I question your judgement when you handed private files to an outlander."

"Your Eminence, when it comes to the matter of choosing between clan and Thessia. I choose Thessia."

"How dare you!" dark purple suffused the older Asari's face, a stark contrast with her light faded facial markings.

"I dare, your Eminence," Sanar forced herself to unclench her hands. "I questioned myself when our home continued to remain sundered. How have I failed my duty in protecting our people? What did I not do? Where did I go wrong? If there is a way to correct my inadequacies, then I must take it."

"Have you no faith in the Elders?"

"Forgive me Eminence," regret tinged Sanar's soften voice but she did not look down. She would pay for her defiance, she knew, but she had to take this opportunity to skim whatever she could on what was going on in the upper echelons herself.

"Foolishness!" snapped the older Asari. "The path to the future has always lie with the Elders whose wisdom have guided the people to stand where they are today."

"They are no longer standing, they are falling," forcing her tone to stay even was difficult but Sanar kept an iron rein on her surging temper.

She was tempted to cite the number of casualities from the TI attack on the spaceport. The waves of TI that flooded through the overrun barricade had been overwhelming and unexpected. The defense troops for that tower could not keep groups from breaking away and infiltrating the spaceport. Civilians who had been slow to get to safety were killed in the crossfires between spaceport security and the invaders. It had been the fiercest assault thus far from the TI and the need to deal with them had risen threefold. Discontent was growing. Heated arguments had erupted over the planetary intranet. Surely she..they could not be so obtuse as to deny that they would eventually lose what they had gained if they failed to push forward?

"What occurred was regretable but you should understand that the adversities we face now is temporary," the older Asari's voice mellowed slightly into a persuasive tone. "The Elders' wisdom will guide the people as they always do. Trust in the past to build a brighter future."

It was unlikely she would get any clearer answers, Sanar realised. That was the sixth time the Elders' wisdom was advocated since she walked into the room and all the likely to continue to rear its head the more she try to probe. There was hardly any point in continuing the audience.

"What we face is not a temporary adversity," she said boldly, "it will become a wedge dividing all unless we continue to strike onward. Please, your Eminence, we will lose more of our own if we stay stagnant. The cleansing must continue."

"And you will lose more if you continue as you are," warned the older Asari glacially. "You have done well in your first cycle, do not throw away what you have achieved because an outlander led you astray."

"Your Eminence, I beg to differ. I chose the path."

"Are you so eager to be cast adrift?"

The threat gave Sanar pause. "I am a child of the sea," she said quietly.

"You..," the older Asari looked away. "Leave."

Somewhat surprised, Sanar hesitated for a moment before genuflecting, bowing her head and backed away to the exit behind her, right hand clasped to her chest. Near the door, she turned around and strolled through the reception room, ignoring the curious gaze of other members of the clan waiting for their turn. Out in the corridor, she recognised a few faces, far-flung cousins she had occasional contact with, but chose not to speak to them. Let them think what they would. Instead she made her way to the elevator, took it down to the ground floor and strolled past the clan commandos in the lobby out through the entrance. As she paused for a moment to straighten out her roiling emotions, someone waved to her from the sidewalk, next to a skycar.

_If this is pursuit, she's pushing it too close._

"And you're here because...?" her voice rose enquiringly as she walked towards Hiaras.

"Looking at your ass is better than Aethyta's," Hiaras jerked her head at the skycar she was leaning against. "Your ride is here, you look like you really need one."

Without a word, she got into the skycar and remained quiet, brooding over the dialogue in the audience room. Aware of her distress, Hiaras said nothing and contented herself with the outside scenery once she had punched in their destination. The sun was low over the horizon, setting the city ablazed in hues of orange and vermilion. Far away, she could see flocks of birds making for the haven of the trees in the parks and wondered if she should try to tame a Qiori in her spare time. She missed her pet dearly and hoped it had survived the onslaught.

"You realised you undermined my credence by coming here," Sanar said finally.

"Would it have made any difference if I had not come?" Hiaras glanced over at her. "One way or another, they know the apathetic standpoint of the Assembly will bring dissension within and without," she said when Sanar remained silent. "It's only a matter of time, which is trickling away. I think they're aware of that."

"But exactly what are they trying to accomplish? They're incurring losses needlessly," Sanar thumped her seat in frustration. "Time and again, the wisdom of the elders have been brought to counter the issues I raised during the audience.. If I didn't know better, I'd thought her Eminence was using it as a shield."

"Perhaps she is. Perhaps she has no valid argument to contend with compelling reality."

"You're saying her beliefs are wavering," a gimmer of hope rose in Sanar. "Then there is a chance the stalemate can be broken."

"Yes, there is." The relief on her face brought a smile to Hiaras's lips before she sobered. "If it isn't, the turmoil among the people would erupt into outright revolt. There is only so much we can tolerate from an irresolute Assembly. It might even come to dissolution of the clans."

"It's...frightening," a shudder passed through Sanar but she did not refute Hiaras's statement. She tried to imagine clans breaking away, perhaps leaving Thessia to colonise other worlds. It had happened centuries past, with minor sub-clan groups leaving when they found they prefer to form their own governance than to conform. It was hard to imagine what Thessia would be like should a few core clans abandoned their homeworld.

"It's only a possibility ," said Hiaras soothingly as she hit a key on the console of the skycar and took over the driving herself. "It was a mistake to convene a new Assembly around the remnants of the old nucleus. I'd say get rid of them and restructure."

"That is drastic," objected Sanar uneasily. How many would support a move to remove an institution that had existed from since the Asari began to form clans?

"That is the other alternative," insisted Hiaras, "or would you rather see Thessia barren and bereft?"

"Neither choices are acceptable but I see your point," conceded Sanar reluctantly. "Removing the nucleus will not be easy. They have been entrenched for thousands of years."

"No," agreed Hiaras grimly. "If it comes to that, well, we shall see. Right now, I'm most interested in finding out what they're trying to hide. There's something in Amali they do not want touch at all costs."

"Is it really worth the lives that were lost?" Sanar sighed. "I can't possibly imagine what it could be."

"Or they," added Hiaras. "Did she let drop anything about Amali?"

"Tried to bring it up."

"And I guess she just threw you a warning and a threat," sniffed Hiaras. "That's what they always do when they feel the ground beneath them wobbling. She wanted to cast you out too, right?"

"Did you put a bug on me?" demanded Sanar.

"She let you go," Hiaras said shrewdly. "Can't drag you before a clan hearing. That will raise too many questions. She may just find opinions stack against her," she broke off as the skycar descended. "Here we are," she said, opening the door.

"Where's here?" Sanar stared at the lush growth of flowers all around as she got out of the skycar. Had they gone out of the city? Glimmers of sunlight danced through the canopy of trees, broken now and then by birds flitting about, that grew around the vale. The faint sound of rushing water could be heard. There had be a waterfall nearby. "Why did you bring me here?"

"We're at the T'Soni estate, near the lake. Thought you could use some time to get away for a while," Hiaras looked at her contemplatively. "Am I wrong?"

In that, Hiaras was right. She hadn't been looking forward to returning to the academy so soon and had been thinking of hitting a bar. But she was not certain she wished to begin building an understanding with Hiaras, pining for a mate she might be. Perhaps she ought to wait. A spasm of pain passed through her as memory of a similar resolve flashed in her mind. Another time, another place, another person. Thinking there was time and then suddenly, there was none. How deep her regret had been for that decision.

"You're right," she said, making up her mind and returned Hiaras's smile before taking the hand she offered.

* * *

**Ilos**

The pressure was intensed and Liara struggled not to moan. The indignity of it should the others hear!

_{laughter} Oh go on, I'd love to see their faces._

_No. {adamant...gasp} Where did you learn to do that?_

_The Xtranet, where else? I was looking up expectant mothers, babies...came across that little bit about relaxation._

_About Asari? That cannot be ...ooooooo...stop...stop!_

_Go on, go on._

Shepard collapsed into silent laughter when Liara snatched her foot out of her hands and cradled it in her own hands, shooting an indignant look at her bondmate who grinned unrepentantly.

"I didn't know you've a ticklish spot on your feet."

"It is not," denied Liara, examining her foot. "You are just doing it wrong."

"Just because you wanted to giggle I'm doing it wrong?" Shepard tried to look put out but failed. "Alright, how about you trying it on me?"

"No," Liara reached for her socks and boots. "Not here."

"I guess not," Shepard laid back in the bedroll, arms under her head. "The others would think I've gone barmy if they hear me laughing...ooof!" Air rushed from her lungs when Liara let herself fall on her stomach. "Is that revenge?" she gasped once she got her breath back.

"You are the most convenient soft landing in this small space," Liara cast a meaningful look at their surroundings; a tent meant for one.

"Yeah?" Shepard hooked a hand behind Liara's neck and brought her down for a kiss. "Okay, not the right time for this either," she pulled away when the kiss deepened and their heartbeats began to pick up.

"No," agreed Liara, making sure not to hit her head on the tent flap as she sat up. "It is 18 hours. Do you think Module is trapped?"

"I hope not. Let's wait a while longer," Shepard tried to keep the anxiety at bay. The prospect of coming up empty handed after all that slogging and anticipation was not something she was looking forward to. "There are probably tons of yottabytes it had to mend."

"How long would you wait?" Liara turned to look at her when she said nothing. "The processing speed of a Geth is rather dynamic. A day or two?" she waited a beat. "Shepard, we know we may not find an answer even if we get Vigil online."

"I know," rubbing a hand on her neck, Shepard suddenly felt restless. "Come on, I can use a leg stretch."

Reaching for their helmets stacked at the foot of the tent, Liara handed Shepard her helmet before latching on her own. A quick run of a finger on the fastening flap and she was out. She glanced at the the other two singular tents beside their own; closed. Besides the tents on the circular floor, the only other alien object was the still figure of Module standing at the central terminal. She crossed over to its side. There were tiny flickers of electric currents showing its active connection to the terminal, otherwise, the Prime's head was bent towards its chest, its flashlight darkened.

What was it like in to move in an electronic realm? What did Module actually "see" in there? From Shepard's memories, it seemed there was an entirely new vista waiting to be explored though not without peril to an organic for she had experienced it only under a form of guidance. Once by the unfortunate David Archer who was forcibly integrated into a VI, though she was not really within an electronic world but saw her surroundings differently, and the other by Legion who had to assemble a recognizable environment for Shepard. Perhaps organics were not ready for such a venture.

Turning away, she activated her omni-tool as she walked close to the edge of the platform and looked cautiously over. The core below seemed to glow brighter. The columns were similarly aglow, a contrast to the dimness hours ago. Did that mean the core was near full power? It took her a moment to realise there was something different among the columns. Tabbing her omni-tool scanner, she nearly walked off the edge but a hand grabbed hold of her.

"Whoa! Watch your step, love or do you want me to tie you up?" Shepard pulled Liara against her.

"I am sorry, I forgot where I was for the moment," consternation suffused Liara, she wasn't usually that careless on a dig site. "I will be careful."

"So what's bitten you that you forget where you are?" Shepard said, releasing Liara.

"Those obelisks," Liara pointed to where they stood; behind the elongated columns. "There are scripts on them and they are not Prothean. In fact," she checked the readings on her omni-tool. "They seemed ... this is strange."

"What?"

"The readings indicate they are far older than the other columns," Liara looked up in amazement. "They could be Inusannon."

"That means...," Shepard stared around them. "They could have built upon a Inusannon site."

"Yes," Liara forced her excitement down to speak calmly. "But I am getting ahead of myself. I'm just basing that assumption on the fact that the Protheans gained their technological knowledge from Inusannon ruins. It has to be verified. There have been no samples of Inusannon script to date."

"Interesting, if so," interjected Kedar.

Startled, they turned to see him taking readings with his omni-tool. Peliar was at the other side, doing her own scans. Just as Shepard opened her mouth to warn her from straying too far, a shimmering field sprang up all around the platform. Startled, they withdrew from the edge even as narrow walkways rose from beneath, halting when they reached level to form passages among the columns. Movement from the central terminal drew their attention. Module straightened up and turned to face them.

"Eh ... Module?" Shepard's hand crept to her pistol when the Prime did not answer.

"Functional," the eyeflaps wavered. "One moment," it said and then suddenly shook its head a few times. "Apologies, Shepard, different platforms, I have to readjust."

"Are you all right?" It seemed silly but Liara felt she had to ask, that head shaking was a rather organic mannerism.

"All sys...," Module broke off, "I am fine. Thank you...Liara. It was...an interesting...journey."

"Mainframe repaired?" Kedar said impatiently. Time was wasting, the Prime was just a machine, why asked about its well-being?

Module regarded him for a moment before directing its answer to Shepard. "It will take a little longer for the system to caliberate and come online but most of the damage is mended."

"What's with the shield?" Shepard waved at the shimmering field.

"It is an automatic barrier preventing access to buried ciphers. To gain entry, codes are required."

"Do you know if any of these archives belonged to the Inusannon?" It was a long shot but Liara thought the Prime might have come across file reference during its link.

"I am not certain. I do not have information on the Inusannon and will not be able to recognise any reference to them. However," it added when Liara looked disappointed, "there are encrypted data buried within. Perhaps what you seek is in there."

"Cheer up...," Shepard began to say when Liara grabbed her arm.

"Look!"

An image was forming in the center of the platform. It was a familiar whirl of jumbled pixels. Didn't Module fix the system? Shepard opened her mouth and then shut it when the pixels vanished for several seconds before a complete holographic representation of a Prothean appeared. It was not "dressed" in the armor they had seen Javik wore but a more casual attire. Robe-like with a long knee length tunic which flared slightly at the shoulders.

"Vigil?" Shepard stepped forward.

It regarded her for a moment. "System integrity restored," it paused. "Core functioning at maximum, atmospheric readings of settlement at optimum," it paused again. "This program recognised the speaker. Is the data provided successful?"

"Yes it was. We stopped Saren and we also stopped the Reapers."

"Such an outcome was not foreseen," Vigil paused again. "Do you require further assistance?"

"Indoctrination, tell us how to stop it," Kedar rushed in eagerly.

"By removing affected subjects from such devices that emanate Reaper signals or destroying such devices."

"Common knowledge, yes, yes," Kedar spluttered impatiently. "Required, subjects' destruction, accelerating damage, subjects' demise."

"Is there a way, chemical or otherwise, to increase the rate of atrophy of affected subjects," Shepard clarified further when Vigil said nothing. Perhaps Kedar's manner of speaking was too disjointed for it to understand.

"There is no chemical application but there is an untested signal scrambler the surviving scientists had formulated."

"What does the signal scrambler do?" Liara leapt in with her question before Kedar could demand for the blueprints.

"It interweaves another set of algorithm into the signal emanated by the indoctrination devices, this results in a different set of values occurring in affected subjects."

"What would they do?" Peliar said, face tense.

"The directive would be changed to one of self-destruction."

"What?!" Peliar burst out in horror even at the same moment Kedar shouted, "Perfect!" before he turned to stare at Peliar who seemed to regret her outburst. She turned away, ignoring the suspicious gaze of the rest.

"You said it's untested," Shepard put in quickly even as she exchanged a worried glance with Liara. Was Peliar a sympathiser?

"During their investigation into the cause of the Reapers' rapid invasion, the surviving scientists also sent probes to nearby systems and successfully brought back thrall samples to examine. They were also able to detect the devices that were left behind and conduct indepth study. However, the work to reprogram the Keepers was completed before they could carry out any tests. There would have been difficulties due to lack of resources."

"It looks we have to do it ourselves," Liara said, feeling somewhat upset. Perhaps she had not competely come to terms with seeding destruction among her own people, warped they might be. No. That could not be. There would be no future if she started having second thoughts.

"I can't believe it of you, T'Soni! Are you even an Asari?!" Peliar shouted angrily before turning to run past the pedestal and down the walkway. Liara ran after, afraid she would do something drastic. Where Peliar think she would go, with the walkway disconnected from the entrance, Shepard had no idea but it was clear Peliar's loyalties lay in a vastly different direction from theirs.

"Stay here and don't move," she rapped at Kedar and turned to follow after them. To her horror, she saw Liara grabbed hold of Peliar's arm only to have a biotic push blasted at her. For a moment, she hung in the air and then fell over the railing. "No! Liara!"

_No, no, no. Please..._

She sped to the spot, heart thumping madly and leaned over. Liara hung on the edge by the tips of her fingers.

"Shepard! I ..." pure panic swept through Liara as she felt her hold slipping. The abyss waited below. Her fear flowed strongly through the link, nearly overwhelming them.

"No!" Shepard lunged down, uncaring that she too would fall. Without Liara, there was no life for her. Like a diver, she fell headfirst and managed to grab hold of Liara's hand even as she reached out with her other hand to snatch at the railing. Her shoulder screamed and protested at the double weight but she ignored it, she had arrested their fall. That was more important. "Not letting you go," she gasped before looking up. If Peliar leaned over to throw them off, there was nothing she could do. However, something else appeared.

A large metallic hand reached down, clamping down firmly around Shepard's wrist. "I have you, Shepard," Module pulled them up easily.


	31. Chapter 31

**Ilos**

For several minutes, they could hardly say anything. All they could do was clasped each other tightly, glad that the other was safe before reaction set as adrenaline drained away. Tried as she might, Liara found it hard to control to her trembling. Death had been just a fingertip away. Shepard patted her soothingly in empathy, even though she was shaking as badly. Module ran a quick scan on them for injuries and turned away to where Kedar was bent over an unconscious Peliar.

"TI, unlikely," muttered the Salarian, running as many scans as possible with his omni-tool even as he pondered over what had happened. "Functions, neural pathways, normal.." He looked up when the Prime stood beside him. "Fast reaction. Chance?"

"Geth know precisely when to strike," Module scrutinised Peliar. "Her behaviour is...curious."

"Indeed," nodded Kedar. "Quiet, conscientious, speak when necessary, discussions meaningful contribution. Initially. Withdrawn. Last several months. Stressed."

"What happened to her?" rubbing her aching left arm, Shepard stood with Liara beside them, her colour still slightly pale.

"She was moving when you reached for Liara, I fired off a stun shot at her," said Module.

"But you have no idea what she was going to do," Liara said, finding it interesting that the Prime had chosen to act precipitately, as she checked Peliar for injuries and found none.

"No."

"She's unconscious," Liara wondered what Shepard was going to do. "And likely to stay out for a few hours perhaps."

"Alright then, we continue what we've been doing," Shepard saw no point in running all the way back to the settlement just to clap a prisoner into the brig. Not that there was a brig at the base which meant Peliar would have to be transferred to the Glasgow once they returned. "Module, if you please?" she waved at Peliar's unconscious body.

The Prime gathered up Peliar easily and followed the rest back to the platform to where Vigil remained online. Time to get things moving, Shepard decided, before Kedar suddenly take it into his head to go wild as well.

"Vigil, how is the scrambler applied?" she said.

"It is a device that has to be attached to the indoctrination mechanism," Vigil threw up a holographic image; a component that was shaped vaguely like a teardrop. "The program will automatically weaved into the signal once activated. The effect of the change would take place over a number of days. A more precise duration has not been determined."

A number of days. A week? Two weeks? They would have to find a control group to test it on but they were missing something, Liara realised and it came to her in a moment. "Is it possible to change...the programming?" she said, before explaining further when Vigil did not answer. "Instead of self-destruction, can it be rewritten to perhaps, induce the subjects to passiveness?"

"There are possibilities. The scientists only had time to pursue a few projects without indepth analysis."

Kedar found it a fine suggestion. The more application viables that could be formed with the scrambler, the less criticisms would arise from those who did not agree with the original intent of the device. Unlikely though that notion was, still, reactions were unpredictable. Hence he said, "Exploring, is worth." when Liara looked at him to see if he supported the idea.

"Can you give us the schematics for the scrambler?" said Shepard, pleased there were other alternatives.

"Data transfer is complete, the disc is at the central terminal."

Shepard walked to the terminal to retrieve it and handed it over to Kedar who tucked it away carefully in his coat pocket. Knowing that he would want to begin work on it, Shepard contemplated returning to the base first and making another trip back down. There were many questions she wanted to ask Vigil but she did not relish the idea of running to and fro. A thought struck her.

"Vigil, is there a lift access to the monorail?"

"The lift is at the end of the walkway entrance."

"There is?" Shepard wondered how they missed it and turned to Kedar and Module. "There're still many questions to be asked. Why don't you and Module return to base and start working on the scrambler? Find out if there's any way to rewrite the original program."

"Idea, excellent!" though surprised, he had thought they would all be hanging around the platform while the human satisfied herself with more questions, Kedar was eager to return to base and begin his work. It was difficult to restrain himself the moment he had the disc. If it were possible, he would have teleported himself back to the base lab. At long last. A solution to the TI. So many problems it would solve! There would be no more destruction of hatcheries, lost of kin. Sur'Kesh would flourish once more. "Now, returning!" he trotted away quickly.

"Module, tell the marines to keep a tight watch on her. Too," she added as the Prime turned to go. "Tell them to have all Asari researchers ceased their work and confined them to their quarters till I get back."

"Will do," Module nodded and lengthened its stride to catch up with Kedar, who was already far down the walkway. With Liara, she followed a little way down the walkway to ensure herself that they ascended safely. Liara caught hold of her when they nearly halfway across and pointed to the flooring. There were lights blinking a few meters in front of them. A soft chime sounded a few times before half the walkway detached and rose to the top. For a lift, it was certainly lengthy.

"Come on," Shepard took hold of Liara's hand and they returned to the platform.

_You're lucky._

_I know. I would have been propelled a further distance had Peliar been a fully trained biotic._

_Thank the heavens for small favours. {relief} Do you mind if I have the first dip?_

_You are going to ask about the Cipher {matter-of-factly}_

_Yeah, time to figure out what's going on in my head! {impatience}_

_I think we should start at the beginning._

_What do you mean? {puzzle}_

_I have a feeling it would be better to understand what happened to the settlement._

_Hey now, trying to jump the queue? {teasing}_

_Prioritising?_

_Alright, we'll do it your way. Mind, there's a price to pay._

_Oh? {coyly} What do you have in mind?_

_Ha!_

What exactly Shepard meant by that, Liara had no idea for she nudged her in the side and released her hand too quickly for her to get a clearer grasp of her intentions. The nudge was to let her know she should kickstart the questions session, she realised. Before she proceeded, she enabled the recorder on her omni-tool.

"Vigil, can you give us the history of Ilos? We know there were once Prothean cities on the surface but something happened to destroy every living thing on the planet."

"Ilos was discovered in the 11th cycle of a project to send space expeditions to find habitable worlds. A colony was established. In the course of developing a new city in the southern region, the subterranean research facility of the Inusannon was discovered."

"Wait," Liara pointed excitedly to the columns. "Are those obelisks Inusannon archives?"

"Yes. Every effort was made to understand this new race. A research bunker was built on the surface to protect the facility. The first breakthrough was made after decades of research."

"Which breakthrough was that?" Shepard said.

"The discovery of mass effect fields."

"I had to ask," she rolled her eyes. It was exactly the same initial advancement as everyone else who discovered Prothean archives. "Continue, please," she said when Vigil remained silent.

"Ships that could harness the new technology were built and the mass relay in this system was found. Scientists were able to make a comprehensive grasp of the mass relay and the first ship was sent through. Eventually, contact with homeworld was made, as with all other colonies. The new knowledge was disseminated. Travel, communications and trade became effortless. Contact was established with other races, alliances were formed. The Citadel was found and became the central hub of the galactic community."

"Did you say alliances?" That did not sound right to Shepard but Liara nodded. It made perfect sense to her.

"That is most likely the path they took initially," she said, "but something must have happened to change their ethos. Vigil?"

"That is correct. As with the warning that we left for the next cycle, the Inusannon had managed to do the same. The message was clear and specific. As such, the return of the Reapers was all but inevitable. The decision was made to unite and prepare all sentient races to fight in the coming war. However, there was dissension when it was proposed. Several races would not accept or believe there was any need to assemble such a force under one banner."

"Let me guess," Shepard interrupted. "The Protheans decided that since they would not join voluntarily, they would force them to."

"For the survival of organics, it was necessary. Allies that accepted the proposal threw in their efforts in the quest to form the resistance force to the potential threat. Those who would not join were defeated in battle and their people integrated. Potential species that had yet to attain technological advancement were assessed and guided."

"And the Prothean Empire was born," put in Liara, comprehending fully why was it every archeological ruin had all pointed to one singular ruling entity 50 000 years ago. "How long did it take before the empire came into being? What changes occurred?"

"The Prothean Dominion was amended to Empire in the 80th cycle of conquest after the 25th species was assimilated. To control expanding territory and infusion of races, military and social infrastructure were revised."

"Yeah, no prizes for guessing who's on top of the pecking order," Shepard said tiredly, shifting from one foot to the other. "I don't know about you love, but my feet are killing me," she dropped to sit on the floor, leaning on an arm. "I'm all for bedside stories on my own terms."

"That is a good idea," Liara said heartily, following her example. "What happened on Ilos?"

"Ilos became a research centre," Vigil said, no expression on its countenance to their flippancy. Afterall, it was only a VI. "Weapon developments took precedence in order to equip the forces with the capability to resist the Reapers."

"Shit...," realisation struck Shepard. "Don't tell me one of those experiments went astray."

"In the intensity of advancement, certain safety protocols were overlooked. The result was planetary wide devastation."

"By the Goddess," Liara clapped a hand to her mouth in horror but ended up slapping her helmet instead. "I do not think I want to know how many died."

"What kind of weapon was it?" Shepard queried anxiously. If there was any currently in existence, there was a chance they could prevent a similar occurrance.

"All data of the weapon has been destroyed. It was determined such knowledge was dangerous."

In the wrong hands. It was not stated but it was obvious that was what the Protheans had thought. Shepard could not fault their logic. _Let's hope that knowledge stayed lost._ It was a vain hope at best. Some day, some genius would come up with the same idea. If that happened, she'd rather not be around to see it.

"What then?" she said.

"Ilos was abandoned, it was deemed too dangerous until the effects of the weapon had abated. 60 cycles after the disaster, an expedition was sent to verify if the Inusannon archives were destroyed. When it was found intact, the research bunker was repaired and the project was restarted. Due to the surface devastation, it was decided to build a subterranean settlement and the infrastructures to support the research outpost sufficiently. In the sixth cycle after restoration, the Reapers invaded."

"Right, the settlement. Why was it not mentioned when we passed through six years ago?" demanded Shepard.

"Time was of essence and the information was not of import. Saren was already ahead of you."

"Right, but you had the time to talk about other stuff," she pointed out.

"You asked questions which were pertinent to the task. I am programmed to respond."

"Score one for the VI," Shepard was disgruntled but Vigil was right, she had taken the time to throw alot of questions in her desire to fully understand the situation.

"What happened to the settlement after the Reapers invaded?" Liara said gravely, braced for unpleasantness. Beside her, she could feel her bondmate as similarly tensed.

"Just before all mass relays were shut down, a signal was received from the Citadel. It came from one of the research staff who was there for a conference. He sent a warning about the arrival of the Reapers. The Citadel had already fallen and he discovered that all data was systematically siphoned off. The Reapers' intentions were clear. He managed to destroy all records on Ilos and advised us not to try to leave the system or make any contact with anyone. The scientific body of the outpost decided to launch probes to nearby systems to observe and record the Reaper invasion. Some of the probes took years to reach their destination. By which time, colonies had already fallen. When the first recording was analysed, it was found that the Reapers were exceedingly thorough with every system, every planet, every colony. They were meticulous and relentless. The invasion would not take years or decades. By calculation, the size of the Empire, it would take them centuries. The outpost depended heavily on supplies from homeworld and colonies, it would not survive the centuries the war would take without discovery. The decision was made to put most of the personnel in cryogenic storage."

"But not all of them," Shepard tried not to bark at Vigil, it was afterall, not a living Prothean. No doubt Javik would react but she had an idea what he would say and she had a feeling she would end up venting her outrage against his cold analytic veneer.

"There were not enough cryogenic pods. This information was dispensed to the lower echelons."

"Who were they?" Liara said.

"Traders and artisans. The outpost was to be shut down to conserve power and to elude any scans from approaching Reaper forces. They were given the honourable choice."

"To commit suicide?!" Shepard rasped in disbelief.

"Their sacrifice would ensure the survival of the empire."

"Except that it didn't," a heavy feeling came to settle over Liara. All those deaths just because of an idealism. "What about those who were not asked? Who were they?" she was not going to like the answer, she knew.

"Labour vassals. They were the lowest of the hierarchy, formed from those races whose technological level were subpar. As such, there would have been chaos within the settlement were they informed. On the day of shutdown, all exits were sealed and atmosphere vented..."

"Fine, that's good enough, we don't need all the gory details," snapped Shepard, finding the cold calculating philosophy of the Protheans very hard to swallow. "Analyses, why did the empire fall?"

"To maintain total control over vast military forces, an uncompromising doctrine was introduced. This led to a recognisable pattern that the Reapers perceived and exploited."

"You guys sure knew how to kill creativity and got stamped out for it," snorted Shepard before looking over at Liara. "Do I get my turn now?"

Mind roiling from what she heard, Liara shrugged. "I have no questions at the moment."

"Alright," taking a deep breath and exhaling nosily, Shepard sat up straighter. "Vigil, what is a Zgagis?"

* * *

**Local Cluster, Earth, Citadel**

Reports and more reports. The desk was stacked with hard copies. Days old, hours old and all the more likely to accumulate but he just sat staring into the air, ignoring the the opened file in front of him. It was difficult to concentrate for every fibre of his being was just waiting for one report. True to his expectations, the 71st flotilla had found evidence of a battle in the asteroid field in the Dirada System. They had also located the data probe on the far ring of the field, emanating a time delayed beacon. There were no lifepods and no clue as to who the attackers were but he knew without a doubt their identity. He closed his eyes, glad that the onus of writing letters of condolences was not his but that didn't make him feel any better. He wished he was captain of a ship again, out there searching and gunning for the killers. Instead, he was stuck 24/7 in an office. Damn it, he was not suitable for a cushy butt job.

The vidcom on his desk beeped. Hitting the key, he glared at his assistant who looked even more cowed. "Yes?"

"Admiral Hackett on the line, sir," he said and his pale visage vanished to be replaced by a grim-faced Hackett.

Cursing silently at his assistant, he quickly dropped his scowl. "Sir?"

"Did Aria give a dateline regards that help she was asking for?" said Hackett.

"No, sir. The other thing she did say was that she wants Shepard to lend a hand."

"Then we don't have to give her an answer as yet," Hackett's farrowed brows relaxed slightly. "It's not looking good Langdon, we're going to need whatever she's holding."

"Shall I tell the recon flotillas to proceed as we discussed, sir?" he said.

"Do so," nodded Hackett. "I don't think they'll turn up anything. Those dogs would be smart enough to run off and lie low for a while but we might be able to pick up some idea where they've been stashing their loot. I'm sending you the data dump from the probe the SSV Kolin managed to deploy before they were destroyed. It's not a pretty picture."

"After the Reapers, sir, I don't think I'll be surprised by anything," he sighed glumly.

"As soon as Shepard updates on the progress at Ilos, I'll let you know when to get back to Aria. Hackett out."

Well at least someone would be on the upper end of the emotional scale of this mess. The pirate queen would be ecstatic in getting her way but he doubted he would see her display her feelings so openly. She'd probably sneered and he would have to grin and accept whatever she threw his way. Damn this job.

* * *

**Thessia**

With wavering slivery tendrils, it searched the surface of the water and gently looped them around the bobbing morsel. With great delicacy, it nibbled at the food, keeping itself stationary with its numerous fins. She looked on with half-lidded eyes, flicking another crumb, the last, from the small cup she held once the fish had finished the current piece. Turning to the side, she tossed the empty cup into the waste disposal bin and sat back on the bench.

Suspended from her post, Nyrine found she had too much time on her hands. Unbearably so after the attack on the spaceport. She ached to return to the academy where she would be most useful but circumstances dictated that she had to stay on the sidelines. Her choice of course. If only things hadn't been so complicated. If only the Assembly had done what it was meant to do, Aethyta wouldn't have assigned such a task to her. It had been hard to act as she did when all she wanted was to jump in wholeheartedly to work with Shepard. If the human thought she was conceited, she could console herself that she had carried out a first class act. She tensed when muffled footsteps approached the bench.

"I hope you have not been waiting too long," someone settled down beside her.

"You could have told me," she said frostily, pushing down the anger, keeping her gaze on the fish which swept the water with its tendrils before sinking below the surface.

Jieull crossed her legs. "What would have been the point? You are not to be implicated in anyway with the human's death."

"I've been suspended."

"I know. Don't worry, there is no evidence. You'll be reinstated soon," Jieull assured confidently.

"And then what? More sabotages with munitions?" Nyrine said sarcastically. "If that's all I am good for, perhaps another minion would have been the better choice."

"Patience. The elders' wisdom will guide you to another greater task."

Nyrine was heartily tired of that venerating verbiage, having heard it extolled in every meeting they had. By all counts, the elders' wisdom were identic to the garbage tossed out daily; unwanted, unusable. She was careful to keep a dispassionate mien and grimaced as cigarette smoke drifted in the breeze. It had to be deliberate, Jieull knew she detested cigarettes. For an Asari to acquire such a habit, it spoke volumns of the manner of proclivities she could have possibly picked up in her first cycle. Considering that cigarettes were hardly manufactured nowadays or on sale anywhere else, she had to wonder where Jieull got her stash. Did she buy it off the blackmarket or did she make them herself?

"Is that all you have to say?" she demanded. "You can just send a message."

"Once you return to the academy," Jieull ignored her irascibility, "keep an eye on your assistant."

"What about her?" Nyrine injected as much puzzlement as she dared.

"She's not for our cause and could prove to be a problem," Jieull exhaled heavily, sending strong fumes into the air.

"Sanar?" laughed Nyrine. "She's harmless. As far as I know, she's a fine soldier and fully dedicated to training the greenies."

"I'm surprised you have such an overly simplified opinion of her," another puff of smoke. "You don't happen to be keen on her, are you?"

"I think that would make me a swinger still in her first cycle since I've that same opinion of most people," snorted Nyrine with amusement.

"That's good. I would hate to see you disappointed since she seems to have found a partner," Jieull flicked the cigarette butt into the waste disposal bin. A point in her favour, Nyrine thought as the cigaretter butt landed right on target. "But I meant what I said, don't depend too much on her. I'll keep in touch," languidly, she got up and left.

What did she mean by that last statement? Nyrine stared across the water at the city and fretted inwardly. She hoped Jieull wasn't making an oblique threat but if she was, Sanar could be in trouble. It would be at least three days before she could try to make contact with Aethyta but there was an alternate way to drop a message. A delay of a day was better than three. Rubbing her neck as if she was tired, she got up from the bench and left.

* * *

**Ilos**

"The Zgagis are the hiero cadre of the Prothean hierarchy..."

"Are they priests?" interrupted Liara.

"They are avatars of memories..."

"Wait, are they something like the echo shard? You know, the one Javik had with him when he came onboard the Normandy," Shepard reminded Liara.

"You mean the memory shard he gave to you?" Liara remembered Shepard showing it to her sometime after they had arrived on Thessia. Javik had told her to store new stories but Shepard hadn't had the least idea how to do that and hadn't explored further and put it away in her wardrobe.

"Echo shards are material storage," interjected Vigil. "It is different with the Zgagis."

"How so?" Shepard leaned forward, eager to know exactly what lay behind the Cipher.

"The ability to transfer memories into echo shards had to be taught. Through the echo shards, memories and knowledge; governance, military, science, personal, were passed from one generation to another. The clarity of transference depended on the skill of the imprinter. Some records were not concise, due to imperfect imprint. A small group decided the best way to preserve perfect memories was to pass that information from one living being to the next..."

"Is that even possible?" Liara said in amazement.

"The Asari have the ability to share certain memories if they so choose."

"Yes, but you implied the Zgagis' method was cumulative."

"That is so. Initial attempts were not satisfactory. Through trial and error, a training process was developed. Those who qualified and passed the tests had to undergo intensive mental and physical training. A Zgagis recruit was also granted immense freedom; his duty was to experience all forms of trials before he was formerly inducted. These duties were varied and far-reaching. Once he had attained enough proficiency and maturity, he would be recalled for assessment. If he passed the trial, advance training would prepare him for memory depository. When that happened, depending on the memory he had taken, he would be posted to suitable positions within the governing infrastructure; military or scientific."

"You're saying such a Prothean, a Zgagis, could be holding ...," Shepard tried to form a coherent picture, "generations of memories?!"

"Yes. The knowledge he held was far spanning in Prothean evolution. Within were the keys with which he could use to guide the empire."

"Wait," Shepard bounced a fist against her helmet, wishing her thoughts weren't jumping about. "If those memories were of individuals, how did a Zgagis remain sane?"

"That is a misconception. The memories were data, not personalities. The purpose of the advance training was preparation and meditation. A Zgagis was taught to maintain a barrier and control to prevent himself from being overwhelmed by the amount of memories. In time, a way was found to encapsulate the memories. Transference and recall became effortless."

"Meaning what?" Shepard wished her brain would settle, she was finding it very hard to grasp the whole concept. "If say, a Zgagis wanted to access a very very old terminal that required a code, he just called up... a memory? Like a computer?"

"Yes. It is similar."

"Can Prothean scans identify a Zgagis?"

"Yes."

"Great," muttered Shepard. "So my brain's hardwired somehow..," she was still finding it hard to understand and figured she never would.

"Vigil, were Zgagis taught self-preservation?" Liara said suddenly. "If they suffered an accident or brain trauma, wouldn't those memories be lost should the Zgagis die?"

"The purpose of intensive training was also to preserve the memories intact until the brain finally atrophied."

"You're saying that's how I...," Shepard trailed off, recalling the Cerberus recording she had seen on Crono's Station. Didn't the scientist mention some parts of her brain were still functioning? "That is...," she was at a lost for words, " so..."

"Amazing," laughed Liara, throwing her arms around her, pleased that Shepard had found a rational explanation behind the cause of her intact memories. It had lifted a lurking cloud from her bondmate's disquiet over the issue.

"I totally agree," Shepard grinned, squeezing her hard. "I still have a few more questions though," she turned back to Vigil. "Who was Irzik Pythan?"

* * *

**Author note : If anything sounds illogical, would appreciate any pointers. My head was in a spin writing this. :D**


	32. Chapter 32

**01020 hours**

Lifting its nose to the air, it sniffed carefully in all directions before setting off at speed when it was certain of the direction. Darkness was all around, broken now and then when gaps in the changed landscape allowed the overhead lights to shine through. With the cunning and skill of its kind, it oiled around corners and squirmed through impossibly narrow passages, climbing with great dexterity up and over barriers. Despite the safety of shadows, it paused momentarily as it neared its target, sniffing warily before it lifted a small foreleg to continue on. The rushing of air warned it of danger and instinctively, it dodged to the side. A squeak of surprise and pain.

Snarling with triumph, he examined his prize and reached to pull it from his spear even as another hand reached for the carcass. A quick snap and a growl of angry warning, she bared her teeth before retreating, eyes gleaming through her oily tangled hair in the darkness. Glaring at her for a while longer for her presumption, he tossed the little body into the sack tied around waist and lightly leaped to the top of the mound, peering at his target from behind the wreck of a skycar.

Nothing moved but he wasn't surprised. They would come. This was but one of many passages they would use. He was but one of many groups all over the territories they controlled, awaiting them. His luck if they used this passage. The spoils would be his and those who looked to him. Patiently, he waited, flicking his eyes on the surroundings, checking for any signs of activity, scratching the lumps on his arms that throbbed and itched now and then. A light touch startled him and he nearly lashed out, annoyed that the pesky plunderer was trying again. Three times now she had managed to steal kills from him. This time, he would make an end of her.

However he stopped when he saw who it was. With gentle hands, she reached out for his arms when she saw he had halted and rubbed them soothingly. It pleased him; she had always comforted his aches away when lesions erupted. Wordlessly, he returned the favor. A flicker of unhappiness arose when he saw how marred her blue arms were. Something ought to be done and he wasn't sure what.

A soft snarl drew their gaze to the top of the mound on the right. Eyes gleaming blue above his sharp teeth and half missing headplate, the Krogan hunched over, almost as if he was waiting for the sound of a starter-gun to set him off running. But he knew better. Quickly, he looked around the skycar; they were moving through the corridor. Even as he ascertained that, the Krogan was already among the troop of the much hated white armored interlopers. The Krogan was not alone however, the others were already moving in. Gunfire erupted and hoarse voices grunted from beneath black painted helmets. Snarling, he lopped towards them, aware of her beside him and her eagerness. Knives out, they charged into the melee.

The soldiers tried but they were not as fast or as bloodthirsty. Armor was no protection against opponents who knew exactly where to strike. Whenever a trooper brought up his weapon, his target inevitably flickered and vanished, leaving him with nothing to shoot at. The next moment, he would be screaming as sharp points, amplified with biotics, entered his throat, behind his back or his groin. A cruel twist and slice left no room for survival. There were those who simply used their biotics, flicking in at close range to reach and tear off the armor with inhuman hands before the hapless trooper was torn apart. A swift end was a mercy. The unlucky ones had their arms and legs wrenched and broken, before the Krogans took hold of them by a sound limb or any convenient hold and smashed them about as they pleased. The others howled in delight whenever this happened while the trooper screamed to no avail before his head was flattened or taken off.

It was sometime before they realised they had no targets left. A chorus of snarls marked their triumph even as they swamped over the crates on the carts the troopers had been escorting. Wrenching one opened, he grabbed a few energy bars and thrusted them at her when she came up. The delight in her eyes warmed him. He tried again to bring up words but they eluded him. Shrugging, he growled at the others who gathered up the crates. A memory came to him. Taking her hand, he towed her behind him even as she bit at the energy bar she had unwrapped, leaving the scene of gory carnage behind them. No one would care. No one would clean up. Not one of the killers would be brought before a court.

Omega had gone to the wolves.

* * *

**Thessia**

She wished she was back at the tower, yakking with Pulchia and Nervia, sharing food and beverages. Having deployed on Thessia for a year now, she had come to know them very well and thought they were really great gals to hang out with. With them, she could shoot off as she like, even taking a few potshots at some matriachs for she knew they wouldn't take offense. But after the attack on the spaceport defenses, her CO had reassigned her and she wished she could say no. Being a lowly grunt had its advantages and disadvantages. One of which was that she didn't have to permanently keep a pair of black eyes as the higher ranked officers. Sometimes, she didn't even know if they slept but she knew she had more chances at rack time than them. The downside was that she couldn't reject an order without good cause. Of course she could protest that a corporal wasn't up to the job; which was true in her opinion. It should have gone to a captain or a major but she had a feeling the top brass wasn't keen in losing another officer to the swamps of Asari politics.

Which was why she was sitting for hours on her butt, watching vids of training sessions in a large operations centre in the Asari academy. It was no different sitting in the tower, she busted her butt there as well but she had two fine gals to knock about with. Here, she had no one, she knew no one and it was a prospect she didn't much relish.

_Not so good, Gallia. Just three days and you're ready to throw in the towel._

Part of the restlessness had to be the cool reception she received from the academy captain. She didn't like to be put down for something she hadn't done yet but that was the impression she got from this captain Nyrine Rylaer. Not that the Asari had actually put it in words but her attitude implied that she wasn't fit to scrap the mud off her boots.

_Well, Miss-High-And-Mighty, I might stick it out just to wave a finger of trump at you._

Maybe that's why Shepard went off planet. Yeah, a mere Asari captain scaring off a human who ate Reapers for breakfast, lunch, tea, dinner and supper with extra cheese. Food for thought. The thought of food brought a rumbling to her stomach. Furtively, she looked around her; no one seemed to have noticed. Grumpily, she cursed at her forgetfulness to bag a sandwich but her late night with her former Asari colleagues brought about an even later sleep period and when she had to get up, she had simply slammed down on the alarm and rolled over to sleep some more. To find she was really really late when she finally woke up and rushed off without preparing any snacks. She sighed when she sighted the chronometer. Another two hours before she could officially leave to grab a bite. As if by magic, a blue hand deposited a paper wrapped roll before her.

"I noticed you're looking a .. little pale," offered Sanar when she stared at her in astonishment.

"Damn right you are," Gallia flashed her a grin, unwrapping the paper and tucking into the roll. It could use some cheese but she wasn't going to complain. "You guys got a little good running here," she waved at the live vid as she wolfed down the roll; squads of recruits were getting pitched against one another for that day's exercises. "Rough around the edges but given more time, I'd say you might be ready to take on the bulls."

Some of the words the human used didn't make sense but Sanar understood the gist of what she was saying. "And how much more time do you think they need?" she said.

"Several more months." Observing her disquiet, Gallia leaned in a little closer, "You don't think so?" Other than the captain, she had nothing to bitch about the others. The lieutenant was more to her liking; friendly and receptive. Much like the gals she hung out with. Too, she was quite a looker. Not that she dug females, well Asari plainly didn't think of themselves as females but to her, they all were. She wouldn't know how else to call them otherwise. Those purple hued stripes and swirls of her facial markings only enhanced the lieutenant's beautiful almond-like eyes and fine features."The captain wants to bring a squad out to Amali," Sanar murmured and drew back in alarm when Gallia jumped up.

"What?! Is she nuts?!" Gallia ignored the heads that turned in her direction at that outburst. "That's throwing chickys to the crocs!"

"I...," Sanar broker off when the human marched towards the exit. "Where are you going?" she chased after, regretting letting loose the information. She had meant to discuss it quietly with the human since she felt she could trust her but Gallia's reaction took her off guard. Regret set in fast, this human seemed more implusive and outspoken than Shepard and the other officer. She wished she had waited. Hastily, she grabbed hold of Gallia's arm once they were in the corridor. "Wait, it's not officially confirmed yet. I only heard it just now."

"C'mon, I know these brass heads," Gallia waved above her head. "They don't talk cheese unless they meant it," she resumed her march towards Zelenia's office. "I thought your boss had her head screwed on right," she recalled the warm reception she had received from the matriach. Old but no fool, she had a very frank dialogue with her and she had come away much assured that she wasn't being handed the short end of the stick.

"You don't understand," Sanar pulled her to a halt again. "I don't mean Zelenia ordered the captain to bring a squad out there."

"What's that again?" Gallia was suitably confused. Sanar threw a look up and down the corridor; a few adminstration staff were looking at them curiously, and motioned to her to follow. They turned the corner down the corridor and into one of the lifts that would take them up to the upper levels. "So how did you know what the captain's going to do?"

"I happened to overhear a conversation earlier between a couple of training staff," Sanar leaned against the wall of the lift, uncertain that the course she took was right. It would be nice if she could get hold of Hiaras or Aethyta but they seemed to have vanished off the face of Thessia. Hence, she had no idea if Nyrine was carrying out some plan of theirs or otherwise. Aethyta had told her not to converse with Nyrine in any manner bar official business and she had adhered to it. It was perhaps foolishness to doubt Aethyta's confidence in Nyrine but she wished she had been able to ascertain for herself.

"Doesn't mean it's true," Gallia said. If the Asari had eyebrows, she'd say that she was having a mighty big mental hashing at the moment. As it was, she looked intense.

"Which is why I had wanted to discuss it with you, quietly."

"Oh...," embarassment brought a flush to Gallia's face. "I had to shout it aloud, I see.." Another notch in a long stick of why she didn't make it past corporal. "So where are we going?"

"To the shuttle bays. Nyrine's over there right now."

"Shit, you're going to ask her right up, aren't you?" Gallia whistled softly, surprised. Sanar didn't strike her as an assertive mover, rather, she would have put her as one of those steady, industrious deputies who always get the job done behind the scene. _Three days and you think you know her and everyone else._

"That or sit by and wait for something to happen," Sanar straightened when the lift stopped.

"Too right," Gallia said dryly as she followed her. "Waiting can be really bad sometimes," she added as she looked around the shuttle bay. It was huge. Big enough to accomodate at least thirty trucks which used to service to the former commercial supply depot. As it was, it now housed the gunships and shuttles of the academy. Several landing pads were empty. Probably units that were taking part in the exercises. Several gunships appeared to have been damaged. Most likely those that had repelled the attack on the spaceport, she guessed as she glanced at the engineers and technicians working on them.

Sanar paused now and then to query on the whereabouts of Nyrine and was directed to the farthest shuttle. The fact she was over there left her anxious. If that mission to Amali was indeed to take place that day, Nyrine should have delegated her duties over but she had said nothing to her. If it was not, Nyrine could just be prepping the shuttle. If so, why were there commandos sitting around outside? The sight of them increased her apprehension; she recognised none of them. They were not academy commandos, bar the two training staff whose conversation she had overheard.

"What's up?" said Gallia when Sanar slowed down. The tension coming off her was as thick as gravy.

"They are not academy commandos," Sanar felt they ought to turn around. Retreat and report to Zelenia. That was what she should have done from the beginning.

"How'd they get...," Gallia broke off and grabbed hold of Sanar's arm. "Right, how about we just turn around right now and make a break for it?" she said, not liking the way the commandos were moving towards them. With swift purpose. As if they were expected, she realised. Before either of them could retreat more than a few steps, they were surrounded by four of them.

"You're just in time, Lt. T'Enaire," one of them said, hard-eyed. "And you brought the human too. Do not risk the lives of others here if you wish to preserve them," she added warningly when Gallia took a step forward.

"You would dare?" shock held Sanar immobiled. Surely they wouldn't create such chaos within the grounds of the academy? How would they explain it?

"With the Elders' wisdom, we dare. None," the commando looked around them, "would live to tell the tale."

"Wow, that's certainly drastic," drawled Gallia, crossing her arms. "You people sure know how to cut off the nose to spite the face."

"Be silent, human," the commando said coldly. "Bring them."

With two behind their backs nudging them on to the shuttle, Sanar and Gallia exchanged a glance and moved. Neither of them were willing to test the commando's implied threat. Who knew she didn't have bombs planted around the landing bay to take out everyone? Such an incident could be easily explained away; malfunctioning fueling tanks or ordnance, with evidence planted or muddied thereafter. If the Assembly, or part of it, were supporting this clandestine mission, Sanar knew there was nothing the commandos wouldn't do. But exactly what were they going to do with her and Gallia?

The rest of the commando squad in the shuttle were already strapped in. Several large crates were tied down in the middle of the cargo compartment. The commandos moved them to opposite seats and told them to sit down. Exchanging another glance with Gallia, Sanar sat quietly; neither of them were armored or armed. She was not sure what they could do or if they could, later. Once in Amali, what was going to happen? A movement from the cockpit drew their gaze. Nyrine glanced at them and nodded wordlessly when the commando who had spoken to them murmured something in her ear and buckled into a seat on the other side of the compartment. The two commandos who had no seats simply held on to handholds as the shuttle lifted.

_Well, shit, Gallie, what did you jump into now?_

Whatever was going to happen next, Gallia was certain they were getting front row seats to whatever was stalling the efforts to retaking Thessia. Too bad she wouldn't be able to share any of her information with her gals, she rather doubted she would be able to make it back to her own rack tonight. Worst come to worst, she would be sharing a drink with her old buddies in the shadow realms. But hell, she wouldn't be going down quietly. Looking across at Sanar, she wondered what she was thinking.

Sanar was more interested in the crates and what they held. If they were really heading for Amali, she was certain the group was making a rendezvous with the TI. That spoke volumns of what the Assembly had been up to and the level of collaboration. If it was ever revealed, she had no doubt the outrage and fury would totally expunge the Assembly. However, she did not believe the Assembly members that supported this mission were acting out of loyalty to those of their own clans that had been turned into TI. It had to be something else. Which she would find out soon enough. It was unfortunate that the human was inadvertantly dragged into the situation. Judging from her set expression, she had the same inclination not to go out without a fight.

Looking at the faces of the commandos around her, she knew it would be difficult. They had the confident air of veterans. There were no patches on those armor, no sign to indicate which clan they were from. Not that it mattered. She couldn't see Nyrine from where she was sitting. Was she wholeheartedly into this? Did she know exactly what was in Amali? If she did, had she told Aethyta? And Hiaras. What was Hiaras doing now? There wouldn't be any more sharing or another visit to the waterfall as she promised. Closing her eyes, she pulled up memories of that day.

Crossing her arms, Gallia leaned back in her seat, wondering how long the journey would take and decided to follow Sanar's example. Better to swim around in memories than to stare at her would-be killers. Funny. She'd often assumed she would end up getting marshed by some Reaper thrall or turned into goo. Instead, she was getting one in the back from those she thought were her allies. Such surprises she could do without. She should have bounced out of the Alliance when the war was over, go back home to the farm. If it still existed. Damn it, she hadn't even found out if any of her family survived the war.

_Fuck it, Gallia, they're dead. Face it._

Getting out and going back home was shitty anyway. Which idiot would prefer more hardships when she could get free chow, clothing and shelter off the Alliance? She'd end up scrapping in the debris of wrecked streets and buildings, fighting for bits of food. Even eating rodents. A shudder passed through her as she recalled some of the the survivors she had encountered in the months after the end of the war. They looked worst than the husks, having being trapped and entrenched for months. There were suspicion of cannablisms but no one was willing to start prying and all that shit. That can of worms no one wanted to touch. Better to look the other way.

She opened her eyes as she felt the shuttle descending, meeting Sanar's eyes. This was it. Her body tensed as the standing commandos opened the hatch of the shuttle. A hard hand on her shoulder pressed her back when she made to peer out. The commando next to her glared at her warningly. Fine. If that was what she wanted. It wasn't time yet to start any dancing anyway. Nyrine strolled past without a look at either of them. She strained her ears to get an idea of what was going on outside but could only get inaudible murmurs of conversation. Before long, the commandos in the shuttle were unshackling the cargo and carrying it out. Then it was their turn. With a pair of commandos behind them, they exited the shuttle.

Where were they, Sanar had no idea but it was clear they were in the ruins of a village. In what was once the festival plaza that would have been used for festivities and rituals. Wrecks of gunships, skycars and shuttles lay scattered everywhere. Her heart sank as she scrutinised the newcomers that ringed the plaza. TI. Without a doubt. Their armor were much begrimed and their faces were lean and dark, shadowed around eyes that looked fevered. A small group stood at the crates that were brought out of the shuttle. One of the TI commandos had opened a crate and brought out a package. Energy bars, Sanar realised. The Assembly was supplying food to the TI? And what else? A shove behind her propelled her and Gallia forward to the group.

"What's this?" rasped the TI commando, looking at them.

"Trouble makers," Nyrine said dismissively. "You could use more hands, I heard."

"Ohh, we do," the TI commando tossed the package back into the opened crate. "We need more than hands."

"That much is clear from your message but to get more, you know what we need," Nyrine stared back steadily when the TI growled. For a moment, they glared at each other, neither giving an inch. With another snarl, the TI commando broke off and marched off into the ruins.

"That one looks like she wants to eat you," Gallia leaned in to whisper, eyeing one of the TI commandos at the crates.

"I don't taste good," Sanar returned softly, avoiding the hungry gaze of the TI in question.

"You''ll taste good," one of their guard commandos said behind them. "They like to do the forbidden."

"What?" Gallia queried when Sanar seemed to pale. "Crap, if you have nothing nice to say, shut up," she threw angrily at the commando when Sanar said nothing.

"It'll not be so bad for you human," the commando grinned. "You won't feel it."

"Really? You would know so much if you have been at it yourself," Gallia threw back.

"Don't try me human."

"Or what? Huh?" challenged Gallia, tensing when the commando looked ready to lash out.

"Silence!" Nyrine stared icily at the commando who backed down, sweeping her gaze at the others before turning back to see the TI commando approaching with someone.

The atmosphere around them changed. The TI soldiers genuflected. In reverence, Sanar realised and it could only meant one thing. Whoever it was, was a matriach of high standing. As the matriach moved closer, she looked just as worst as the TI, with the exception that she seemed to burn more brightly within. For a moment, she stood. As if surveying a thousand minions at her feet.

"I am Aiahcra," she swept her arms out, looking at her followers.

"We hear and obey."

Gallia was tempted to scratch her head. The matriach's entry was altogether rather grandiose. Perhaps the matriach would throw out lightning bolts or something next to demonstrate her power and break into a long speech. It was always like that in funny old vids. A peek at Sanar and she wondered why she was so thunderstruck. Another look at the matriach and she found she had missed out one aspect; she really looked old. Ancient. _Wow, how old is she?_

"Your Eminence," Nying bowed her head respectfully. "The people asked for your return."

"I am already home, where is that you ask me to return to?" the matriach reached down into the crate. "Is this all that is?" she held up the package.

"We ask pardon but we need to ascertain that you are here," said Nyrine.

"And now?" the matriach drew herself up, as if she was tired.

"Now, we have to bring you back," without warning, Nyrine's arm whipped up and something snicked out. The matriach staggered, eyes widened in astonishment before anger took over.

"You dare!" she roared, biotics flaring even as she clapped a hand to her neck.

Around the plaza, the TI commandos reacted immediately, throwing out biotics and whipping out their weapons. By then, Nyrine had dove aside from the warp field the martiach threw at her. She rolled and dashed to Sanar, throwing a pistol to her before tackling a confused Gallia at the legs, toppling her to the ground even as the commandos guarding them drew their rifles to fire. Sanar shot one of them and then had to duck down as gunfire began to crisscross the plaza. A commando flew past as one of the TI threw her.

"Into the shuttle!" Nyrine shouted, dragging Gallia up and shoving her in that direction, grabbing the rifle off the wounded commando Sanar had shot. The other had chosen to concentrate on the TI and had gone round the shuttle. "Get the pilot!" she said to Sanar as she followed them in. A quick run to the cockpit and a whip to the head of the pilot who had been looking through the window knocked her out cold.

"Shit, give me something to shoot with!" yelled Gallia, not liking to stand around in a firefight empty-handed.

"Stay here and don't move," snapped Nyrine.

"Wait," Sanar grabbed her arm before she charged out of the shuttle. "Where're you going?"

"I came here for someone. Dead or alive, she's coming with us," Nyrine nodded to the matriach, now lying unconscious on the ground. A small group of TI was shielding her with their bodies and the bubble of a shield, not caring they were exposed but then, their companions were fighting the commandos.

"Not alone!" Sanar went out after her.

"Shit...," Gallia was nearly hopping with rage as she watched them go. She wasn't that nuts to run out after them so what should she do?_ Fuck, can't shoot? Get into the_ _cockpit! Stupid_! She cursed at herself and pulled the unconscious pilot onto the floor before running a systems check. A quick getaway was in the cards. A familiar thrum was heard.

_I know that sound._

Checking the shuttle scanner, she could see the icon of a ship approaching. It was almost right on top. Outside, the sound of gunfire was fierce. With Nyrine, Sanar dashed with her around the shuttle and threw up a shield as they made for the ruin of a nearby fountain. She was not sure how many of the commandos that had come with them had survived but they were definitely putting up a fight. She watched their backs as Nyrine peered over the rim.

"How're you going to get to her?" she said.

"I'm waiting," muttered Nyrine. "Here they are."

"Who...?" Sanar broke off as a Geth dropship appeared, very low. So low she could have sworn she could count the number of rivets on a hull plating. The Geth did not fire. Instead, ports opened in the underbelly and more commandos were dropping in, dressed in uniform armor of grey-blue. "When are you going to tell me what you're up to?"

"Later," Nyrine said as one of the commandos ran over, going so fast that the TI couldn't seem to pinpoint her.

"How many?" Hiaras patted Sanar's leg, a glint of astonishment in her eyes. _What're you doing here?_

"Too busy to take a count?" Sanar frowned at her.

"Target's down in that group," Nyrine indicated the spot.

"They're ready to throw their lives down, I see," Hiaras noted the pile of bodies stacked up around the TI defenders, they were also getting ready to move away. She could see a body held over the shoulders of one soldier. "This will be a little diffcult. Stay here." And she was away before Sanar could ask how she might help.

"I think the ones that came with us are down," Nyrine observed. Most of the fire was concentrated on the newly arrived commandos. "We should get those who're wounded into the shuttle. Shouldn't leave them for the TI."

"They were ready to leave me and Gallia with them," Sanar said sourly but followed Nyrine out.

They found the commando Sanar had wounded, unconscious and dragged her to the shuttle. Scurrying from wreckage to wreckage, they tried to ferret out the fallen commandos. Around them, Hiaras and her squad had successfully pushed back the perimeter with the Geth ship now firing further afield as more TI troops were spotted. Clapping a hand to her helmet comlink, Hiaras spoke rapidly. There was a pause from the gun turrets of the Geth dropship before a blast shot out at the group protecting the matriach. Not a direct hit but near enough to drain the shield the TI was holding up.

The moment it collapsed, Hiaras threw a precise calculated biotic throw that blasted most of the TI soldiers out of their positions and followed it up with several shots that killed them, saved for the one who was carrying the matriach. She held her fire and waited, peering out from her cover. As if realising there was no desire to shoot on her burden, the TI commando opted to use her as shield, retreating as fast as she could. Hiaras simply put a shot through her lower leg and she was overwhelmed easily. The matriach was removed and Hiaras carried her to the shuttle even as towlines were dropped from the Geth dropship.

"Get in," Hiaras shouted to Sanar and Nyrine as she neared the shuttle. "We're moving out."

"Come on, nothing we can do for the rest," Nyrine tugged at Sanar and they ran for the shuttle even as the commandos retreated steadily, grabbing hold of the towlines once they were under the Geth dropship and were pulled into the ship.

Out of the corner of her eye, Nyrine spotted a white burning trail and shoved Sanar aside as they neared the shuttle. The rocket exploded against the shuttle, rocking it violently. Inside, Gallia cursed as she was tossed out of her seat.

"Hiaras!" Sanar threw aside her rifle and ran to Nyrine in horror. So much blood. Frantically, she tried to staunch the head wound.

"Not here! Come on," Hiaras took hold of one of Nyrine's arms as Sanar took the other. Together, they got her into the shuttle. "Get us out of here!" she shouted towards the cockpit.

"Yeah, yeah! With a fucking hole... damn fucking...," Gallia trailed off as the shuttle lifted, wobbling unsteadily. Fingers dancing rapidly over the controls, she made adjustments and took manual control. The last thing she needed was for the shuttle to freak out. "We're away."

Behind them, the Geth dropship made for space. Leaving the TI soldiers to mill around in confusion and anger.


	33. Chapter 33

**Words to note.**

**ANI - Allliance Naval Intelligence**

* * *

**Ilos, SSV Glasgow**

No one said anything as the vid played. The image quivered, steadied for several seconds and quivered again. Against the inky backdrop of space, beams of light lashed out with torrents of projectiles. Static blanked out the image now and then before everything turned black. A few still images appeared, expanded and enhanced. The group studied them silently.

"Those are definitely Ocuili," Shepard pointed to one of the images which showed a few black globes against the backdrop of the asteroid belts. Though small at that distance, the red "eyes" were distinct. The eye was in reality a particle beam weapon. One which she had a close encounter with on the Normandy during the suicide mission more then four years ago. "With that many, the Korvin didn't stand a chance."

"Not least to say the overkill," Dorrin nodded at the swamps of fighters and the waves of torpedoes. "That the Korvin wasn't blown outright in the first minute was a miracle. We wouldn't even have known what hit her."

"The Collector oculus was piloted by the nervous system of a drone," Liara scrutinised the data flowing through the screen, "what do you suppose are controlling those?"

A grimace of disgust crossed Shepard's face. "You're not going to suggest Cerberus did the same thing?" she said, itching to get her hands on whoever's behind Cerberus. After discovering what had been behind Sanctuary, she didn't think it could get any worst but apparently she was wrong. The more they find out what Cerberus had been up to, the more she felt like she was finding out exactly what terrifying horrors lurked within the realms of the Styx. Hell, she found it surprising Cerberus hadn't been crushed by the depths they were dipping in so deeply.

"I am not suggesting," closing her eyes, Liara leaned back in her seat as she rubbed a finger across her brow, wishing the data had read differently. "The frigate sensors were able to pick up trace amounts of organic material," her mind shied away at the thought of an unfortunate victim hooked up to the Reaper apparatus.

"That is what Alliance intelligence suspect as well, but until we can get hold of one to examine, we can only speculate," Dorrin switched out the images to that of the Dirada System. "We also found several recently abandoned facilities on the larger asteroids," he highlighted the asteroids in question. "It's pretty clear those ocuili and fighters were based on those rocks."

"Holding depots," Shepard was certain. "Are there any more located in the nearby systems?"

Dorrin shook his head. "Still searching. I think we'll find nothing even if we do locate more depots."

"They know when to cut loose," Shepard steepled her fingers, a faraway look in her eyes. "That asteroid belt could very well have been one of their staging areas to launch their next phase."

"So soon?" Liara murmured in dismay. "I do not think they intended to provoke the engagement," she opinioned, "or they would not have withdrawn those forces or ceased all transactions in the trading market."

"Wrong place, wrong time," Dorrin nodded. "The Korvin just wandered into their backyard."

"That was no engagement, that was a slaughter," added Shepard grimly, "and there's only one fortified place they could have withdrawn to in this galaxy."

"The galactic core," said Liara at once. "Would they have changed the relay IFF?"

"Even if they didn't, it's not advisable to take a leap in there," Dorrin shook his head, running a hand over his chin as he considered the outcome of such a foolhardy move.

"Not up to a kamikaze run?" Shepard grinned at Dorrin.

"I would. Only if I'm really sure they didn't lay an ambush at the entrance. If I were them, I would mine and lay traps around the entry point."

"How suicidal do you want to be?" Liara nudged Shepard's foot with her own, recalling her bondmate's first and only trip through the Omega 4 Relay. One which had put her through the loops, thinking she wouldn't come back.

"Hey, I know when to jump, even with eyes closed," returned Shepard. "We can mousetrap our end, we don't have to go through the relay at all," she pointed out.

"Leaving them to stew in there might not work," objected Dorrin. "I would hate to think of a whole lot of unpleasant developments they might come up with that we may not be able to deal with down the road."

"Except that there is no available resources at the core," said Liara, "otherwise they would not be salvaging, trading and attacking shipments. I think," she continued, "we should consider that they would not have left themselves with no backdoor. The Omega 4 Relay is impregnable and dangerous but then, they are also trapped. There would have been other sites for them to retreat to. With that unintended attack, they may very well shift their acquisition target elsewhere rather than the Terminus Systems, if that has been their objective all along."

"The backwater zone is ideal," Shepard nodded, seeing her point. "The Nemean Abyss is pretty much overlooked...," she trailed off. "Does anyone here think it strange that they are even bothering to venture onto the road where we can see them? The Reapers had pretty much stomped over this galaxy, I doubt there is much credible resistance left in that sector. Rich in eezo and pretty much everything else is there for the taking. They could easily gobble up the territories there, unnoticed, with everyone busy with their own backyards."

"Shit, I don't like the picture you painted," Dorrin shifted uneasily. "We, none of the allied races, have been looking that far. I really don't like the prospect of having to face a thriving Cerberus," his fingers drummed restlessly on the armrest of his armchair. "I don't think ANI have considered this scenario."

"Everyone's so focused on the TI and we just assumed Cerberus was gone with the Illusive Man dead and Cronos Station blown up." A dreadful oversight, in all consideration but the only excuse Shepard could offer was that she was just swamped with too many things. "How far would the Illusive Man had gone in altering his troops?" she said suddenly, glancing at Liara who stared at her for a moment.

"Victory against the Reapers at any cost was his priority," she said slowly. "Loyalty would have to be absolute."

"And we know every Cerberus recruit and scientists went through the chip implantation procedure. He also made the mistake of doing that same to himself, believing he could maintain control of self in his attempt to read the Reapers. What if," Shepard leant forward to emphasize her point, "his lieutenants are carrying out his pre-programmed commands?"

"That would mean they lack flexibility and tactical foresight," Dorrin said immediately, straightening in excitement. "They need not attack the Korvin at all but they chose to. If they had allowed the frigate to depart, we would have been none the wiser."

"They also need not meddle in the trade markets, nor bother with attacks on shipping or fueling stations," Liara realised what Shepard was saying. "They could easily find those in the Nemean Abyss."

"Exactly," Shepard snapped her fingers. "With everyone trying to deal with the TI, they could just anonymously employ all the "workers" they need, salvage the wrecks from the Reaper War, convert those in the Nemean Abyss and steadily build up their forces," she felt no satisfaction in her analysis; if it was right, it didn't provide any solution to the Cerberus problem, only panned out a worse situation than what they currently faced from them. "If we found no solution to the TI, we would be depleted in the fight and in no shape to face the forces they might have brought against us years later."

"I hope you're right," Dorrin's face was dark, "in that their mental faculty have been warped. Any mistake they make right now is a huge favour to us."

"The attacks on shipping, fueling stations and kidnapping," Shepard rested her elbows on the armrests of her chair, clasping her hands loosely, "might not necessarily be their work. The TI could have been responsible as well. Whether they are cooperating is at best, irrelevant. We have to get rid of both either way. Which," she paused, "brings us to Omega and Aria T'Loak. We really need whatever she's holding."

"Shucks," snorted Dorrin, slapping his armrest. "I'd never thought we'll work hand in hand with her again."

"The dance to victory doesn't mean you would like your partners."

"Can you dance, Shepard?" laughed Dorrin, well aware of the stories about Shepard and pretended to cower when she glared at him. "Right, I'm not bringing you to any dance parties. Can't imagine how ducky my feet would end up."

"Why'd I want to dance with you?" Shepard jerked her thumb at Liara. "I've got a much sexier partner. Have you seen her..."

"We are not talking about dancing right now," Liara interrupted, even as she recalled the time she had tried to dance with Shepard on the dance floor at Flux on the Citadel. Though she had enjoyed that unexpected interval, she had admittedly been trying to get Shepard's attention then and had revealed that desire in her movements. There hadn't been any further opportunity of dancing and she wondered fleetingly if they were missing something. "I am sure Aria has plenty of notes to share where Cerberus is concern."

"Spoil sport," teased Dorrin and then sobered. "If it is true she has months of data on their movements in the Omega Nebula, it's going to be of tremendous help in nailing them down."

Unfortunately, that information did not come free and Liara was miffed with Aria's price tag. "I wonder how much help you can offer regards Omega," she muttered to Shepard who shrugged.

"I really have no idea," she confessed. "I guess I'll find out soon enough. The question is, when."

"Kedar, Module and the others are not going to come up with that modification anytime soon, it's going to take weeks, so why not now?" suggested Liara.

It was not a bad idea since she had completed her mission objective on Ilos. Hanging around, twiddling her thumbs was a waste of time. A prospect she could do without though she supposed she could spend that time asking Vigil half a million questions. But that would mean competiting with the researchers for access which brought up another gnawing problem.

"Has Peliar or any of the others break their silence?" she sighed when Dorrin shook his head. "I suppose...we should send them back to Thessia since we're not going to press charges. There's hardly any point to them remaining onboard the Glasgow."

"The Assembly have already requested their return," he said. "The allied units for the Ilos garrison will arrive tomorrow and...," he pulled a sad face.

"What?" she frowned when he grinned at her impishly the next moment.

"I guess I've been designated your chauffer," he scowled in mock anger when she laughed. "Hey, if I could, I would have told you to take a hike but the old man thought you need a ride."

"A ride to where?"

"Councilor Tevos said the pirate queen's at the Citadel, awaiting your royal highness."

"Really? Tevos said that?" Shepard found it most amusing. Aria putting herself out on her behalf? On the other hand, why not? She did specifically ask for her help.

"Well, once the old man got wind of your success, he added two and two together and thought you need another job so he went to play ball with the pirate queen. Guess he scored a home run," he heaved a sigh. "I'm offloading that lot downstairs at the Citadel. Someone from Thessia will pick them up and they become someone else's problem. Hooray," he clasped his hands above his head in ecstatic relief, bringing forth chuckles from the other two. "Which brings me to," he looked at the chronometer on the wall, "my duties. So," he looked at the two of them, "if there is nothing else of note?" They shook their heads. "I'm off. Let me know if you think of anything else," he got up and moved to the door. "By the way, Shepard," he turned back. "The Normandy went to Alchera to check on the wreck of the SR1 and I hate to say this, but those dogs snapped up every rivet."

"Thanks," Shepard nodded impassively before rubbing her hands over her face once he had left. Damn Cerberus. Couldn't even let the dead have their peace. Getting to her feet, she went to the desk and poured two mugs of water from the waterflask. "The more I hear, the more I want to grind every last one of them to the ground," she handed a mug to Liara and leaned against the armchair. "I once heard stories of how the ancient conquerors would sow salt into the fields of their enemies as punishment. Cerberus deserve nothing less."

Sipping at the water, Liara said nothing. Silently though, she heartily endorsed Shepard's vehement goal. This desperate drive for to stamp out out the remnants of old foes was not just solely theirs to generate, she could feel it in the people around her. Once the news that a solution had been found, the atmosphere aboard the cruiser had lifted. The crew's behaviour reflected that elation. There were far more smiles now than she had seen in the trip from Thessia to Ilos. It was both comforting and worrying. For she was not certain how long the others would be willing to wait for the modifications of the scrambler. The longer it took to rewrite the algorithm or failing to achieve positive results if that happened, it was inevitable the Council and the other races would vote to deploy the scrambler with its original programming intact. Six months from now, the level of conflict would drop drastically. Giving the breathing room everyone needed to step back, evaluate and rebuild. So why was she feeling so conflicted, so apprehensive?

"What?" Sensing her turmoil, Shepard bent to peer into her face. "Something's boiling in there," she touched her face gently.

_Too many things. {she leaned into her caress} I cannot stop thinking of the archives below, the wealth of knowledge for the taking, the technology the Reapers had brought with them and what Cerberus had done with it. Twisted, loose and unchain. What kind of a future will we face?_

_Ahhhh...love, you're reaching too far, too much. Every door we open swings both ways. There is no getting around that._

_I know. Sometimes, I wish it does not have to be so complicated._

_Then why not respun the web? I think that'll make you feel better._

_You approve then? What would you do in the mean time?_

Taking the mug from Liara's hand, she placed it and her own on the nearby coffee table before taking hold of her bondmate's hands.

_I've to admit I've been in a dilemma ever since we conceive our child. The thought of leaving the Alliance is difficult but it is insignificant to leaving you and our child behind. I cannot do without you. {a kiss on their clasped hands}_

_Nor I you._

_So, if Hackett and the Assembly accept my proposal, I don't have to. We'll both stay on Thessia, working on what we both love and at the same time, we rebuild the network and try our best to be the vanguard against the night the door lets in._

_Shepard.. I never thought..._

_I know. You have been patient, waiting. Thank you._

Their lips met in a kiss of solemn promises. Days of restraint; too tired out at the end of the day on Ilos and with the luxury of intimacies limited by the thin walls of the prefab dwelling, desires flared brightly now that they were alone by themselves. Gentle caresses turned more passionate as Liara smoothed her hands down Shepard's back and slipped them under her tunic even as their kiss deepened. Unerringly, despite the confines of the armchair, Shepard unbuckled Liara's labcoat even as she nuzzled her neck.

_You're overdressed._

_So are you._

Closing her eyes, Liara let herself float in the waves of desire as Shepard nipped her neck, her hands slid down her back and arched as fingers found her sensitive spots. Her own fingers entangled themselves in her bondmate's hair as kisses trailed down her semi bared body. She hardly felt the coldness of the deck when they slipped down from the chair or the slight wrenching scrape of her labcoat when it was peeled back further. Her entire focus was on the warm moist suckling kisses that trailed down her neck, a soundless moan escaped her at the almost sharp frisson of pleasure that ran through her when fingers graze another tender spot at her spine at the same time as a tongue curled at the apex of her breast.

Shriek! Shriek! The sound was jarring. Who was shrieking? Her eyes snapped open in confusion, meeting those of Shepard's startled blue eyes. It was then she realised she had unknowingly pulled Shepard's tunic and shirt apart for she looked just as disarrayed as she was.

"Damn the vidcom," Shepard muttered in annoyance when she discerned what it was. The sound seemed to increase, practically screaming for attention. Had been for the past minute. The caller on the other end had simply hung on when there was no response and the vidcom reacted accordingly.

"Goddess," Liara hastily pulled her labcoat around her, buckling up as fast as she could and leapt for the vidcom. "Yes?" she tried not to snap at the human on the other end even as she fought through the clouds of passion to bring herself to a semblance of composure.

"Dr T'Soni, you have an urgent call from Thessia," said the officer quickly. His face was promptly replaced by that of Aethyta who peered into the pickup at her end. The sight of her parent cooled Liara's hazy senses.

"Not intruding am I?" Aethyta said after a moment.

"Dad," Liara pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down. "No, no, you are welcome to call at any time."

"Really?" Aethyta cocked her head. "From the looks of it, you have been getting right down to the bare basics though I did say bed, not the deck."

"Dad!"

"Taking my advice, I see," Aethyta nodded sagely. "Like I said, if it's all civilised, you're not doing it right."

"You did not call just to drag up an old argument," said Liara evenly. Aethyta could be crass but she knew her parent relished letting herself rip at those she was displeased with, or those from whom she wanted to gauge from their responses to plain enjoyment in provoking them out of their corners. Otherwise, Aethyta could hold a serious discourse as any other matriachs of her rank.

"Just to see your face, I'd even call just to say I have a gum check in 15 minutes."

"Dad, you know I..." began Liara, wishing Aethyta would come to the point. She was sure something had occurred back home.

"Fine," Aethyta shrugged, rolling her eyes. "Shepard, you can stop hiding in the corner. Get over here."

"Should have known nothing escapes you," said Shepard wryly, tugging down her uniform tunic as she approached the desk.

"Yeah, maybe next time you," Aethyta looked at Liara, "would remember to buckle up tight before you answer a call and you," she winked at Shepard, "would duck down even lower if you intend to stay out of the vid pickup."

"Duely noted," Liara tried to keep the heat off her face and refused to look down at herself to see if her labcoat was indeed gaping opened.

"My, she's getting pissed," observed Aethyta as Shepard tried to keep a grin off her face. "But I've to say your little conversation with our metal friends brought results."

"For a good cause," Shepard leaned on the back of Liara's chair. "Though they were concern that they were meddling with Asari affairs."

"Good thing they looked to you. Say what you like about those metal heads but they are screwed on better than the ones here," snorted Aethyta. "Without their help, I might not even bag the prize. Well...some prize she is."

"Which is?" Liara tried to keep the impatience out of her voice.

"Nyrine was reinstated at the academy three days ago. First thing they threw at her was a sneaky mission to the borders near Amali to try to pick up someone and yes, it was a rendezvous with the TI," Aethyta added, anticipating their question. "No surprise there. Both Sanar and that new Alliance instructor, Gallia..," she looked offscreen for confirmation, "got caught up in it accidentally."

"Sanar? Is she alright?" queried Shepard.

"Made it out in one piece. A fine gal, by the way," Aethyta ignored a cough offscreen. Shepard wondered who was it. "Both of them. We crashed the party and kicked a few butts. Well, flattened several. The downside to that; Nyrine's injured, concussion and all. We're just waiting to see if she'll pull out of it," worry creased her brow.

"So who was she?" repeated Liara, certain Aethyta was deliberately holding back.

"Damn if I know," Aethyta said irritably. "With our own archives as extinct as the Reapers, there are no records I can pull up. The only thing I can say is that she is old. Older than all the wine I have in storage."

"Is this an exception?" Shepard was puzzled. The lifespan of an Asari ran up to a thousand years but Aethyta seemed to imply there never had been an Asari who had truly hit that mark in the centuries after they made the technological leap to space.

"Ever seen a Krogan break into a dance at the bar? Or a Salarian having a bout of the weeps for a day?" Aethyta chuckled at their bemusement. "I see all kinds of weird stuff in my stint behind the bar," she leaned into the pickup, "and I've never seen or heard of an Asari hitting a few more centuries over the top."

Liara could hardly believe what she was hearing. "That's...incredible."

"Yeah but it isn't helping clearing up matters here. First thing she did when she woke up was to bend one of my commandos out of shape so have to knock her out cold again and keep her that way until we can move her to a more secure holding. There's a possibility she might be from the T'Enaire clan but I'm checking up on that one. One way or another, she's also likely the reason the Assembly are stalling and I have to find out why."

"How can we help?" Shepard wasn't sure what it was Aethyta thought both of them could do.

"I take it that lot are still reticent."

"We tried several times," Liara sighed. "They just clammed up."

"You could ply them with drinks, never seen anyone who didn't blubber out tons of dirt once they hit the bottle," suggested Aethyta and plowed on before they could answer. "Sanar said she called herself Aiahcra," she paused meaningfully.

"What does that mean?" Shepard said when Liara remained silent.

"It can either mean the Ancient or the One," her bondmate paused for a moment. "It is...an unusual title to use."

"Never heard of such a vintage, bet it's all sour piss right now. I suggest you try that on this...Peliar, is it?" a hard note entered Aethyta's voice. "You'll also want to know Jieull is also in on it."

"I thought so," said Liara. "She has never tried to hide her opinions."

"An honest villain among the lot, she gets a drink on the house but Peliar has better not sit at my bar."

"Dad..."

"I mean it," Aethyta said icily. "Let me know if that doesn't crack Peliar. I've to go," her face softened as she gazed at Liara. "You watch your ass. I want you safe back home, you hear?"

"I will be careful," promised Liara.

"Make sure she does, Shepard," Aethyta nodded to them and the vidcom went dark.

"Come on" Shepard made for the door. "Time to rattle some answers out of Peliar and find some ammo for Aethyta to break the deadlock." At the door, she paused to give Liara a once over. "She's right, you missed a buckle."

"No, did...," Liara began to check her labcoat but her chin was caught and a kiss planted on her lips.

"Nah, caught you that time," laughed Shepard, caught hold of her hand and palmed the door opened.

When the Asari researchers proved uncooperative after the incident in the lower archives, Shepard had opted to have them moved to the Glasgow. Unlikely as it was that they would take it into their heads to scury off to hide in the depths of the Prothean bunker, she thought it prudent to have their movements restricted further to prevent any mischief. Hence, for the past few days, the Asari were confined to quarters with scheduled visits to the wardroom and the gym, always accompanied by marines. Right then, there were a quartet standing guard outside the two cabins assigned to the Asari. Shepard requested for entry rather than march in unannounced. For a moment, there was no response before the door slid open. The Asari who opened the door, stood aside when she saw them. Peliar was seated at the desk, tapping away at the console.

"We need to talk, Peliar," Shepard cast a glance at the other Asari in the room. "Alone."

"What difference does it make," Peliar did not look at them, continuing with her task.

"Something has happened on Thessia," Liara moved to where she had a better view of Peliar whose fingers ceased to move.

Shifting in her seat, Peliar nodded to her cohort who exited the room. Shepard had a word with the marines outside and they were escorted down to the wardroom.

"What is it?" Peliar crossed her arms, facing them.

"What does Aiahcra mean?" Liara watched her carefully and was startled when Peliar leapt up. Shepard tensed, eyeing her keenly.

"What? Have they found them?" incredulity blazed in her eyes.

"Them?" Liara was astonished. If it was a group, how was it no one, outside the Assembly, ever heard of them?

"There's more than one?" said Shepard, taken aback.

"They have found one then," Peliar closed her eyes and began to pace. "The Assembly ...," she began haltingly. "I know very little really. Only what I was told."

"Told by whom?" Liara probed curiously.

"When work began to find a solution to resolve the TI problem, I was sought out by my clan doyen. I was instructed to find ways to undermine the project should the objective turn to eradication instead of rehabilitation. Knowing the effects of indoctrination, I knew it was a matter of time before harsher steps would be taken to remove them."

"Then you support extirpation," Shepard said, wanting to hear her state her stance clearly.

"I am not blind, Shepard!" Peliar rounded on her heatedly. "Despite what you think, I know this is a situation where the Asari cannot allow emotional persuasions overrule the pansophy of such a course. The Asari have to remove the disease before they can heal and prosper. I want Thessia, her people, to rise stronger from the ashes. That is what I want," she turned away and resumed her pacing. "I voiced my objections. It was difficult at best," she looked at Liara who nodded in empathy. "One may question to a certain limit but in the end, obedience is expected unless you could out put forth a more credible argument. I thought mine was prudent, logical, sensible," she laughed bitterly. "But she overruled every single contention I brought up. It was totally...," she shook her head in wonder, "beyond my comprehension but then, that is how it is, isn't it? The old ones know more than the young and we are expected to listen."

"What did she say to persuade you?" Liara said softly.

"That the TI are holding hostage the heart of the Asari," shoulders slumping, Peliar sat on the nearby bunk. "That was the first time I heard of Aiahcra. According to her, they are the ones who have been guiding Thessia through the centuries, enabling the Asari to reach the apex in the galactic community. If we harm the TI, we also harm them. Therefore, every means must be tried to pacify the TI in order to retrieve the Aiahcra."

"If they're with the TI, doesn't that mean they're indoctrinated as well?" pointed out Shepard.

"She said no," Peliar saw their disbelief and shrugged. "She also said that they have immense abilities no Asari of the past generations ever knew and are able to protect themselves. It's just that they are not able to escape the overwhelming TI numbers. I thought it's impossible and said so and was told off. I was too young to understand and all that."

"And?" Shepard felt there was more that tipped the cart.

"I questioned the existence of the Aiahcra and was told only a select few in the Assembly knew of them. I suppose that meant the leaders within the Assembly who usually swing the votes one way or another," taking a deep breath, Peliar continued. "I didn't know what to think except that it must be the truth. What was more, she emphasized that Thessia need the Aiahcra. The people, the clans need ther wisdom. She is the elder, I'm what...in the middle of the second cycle. How much do I know compared to her? So, I said I will try my best."

"Then you and Jieull are the ones behind the sabotages at the lab," said Liara quietly.

"I didn't want to do it," Peliar jumped up, agitated. "With the way Thessia is right now, every decision the Assembly made, I keep thinking it's wrong but Jieull was insistent. Her faith is total, unlike mine."

That she was conflicted, Shepard sympathised but she couldn't forget how Peliar had nearly caused Liara's death and was not ready to overlook it. "Did she say anything else about the Aiahcra?"

"Other than they're the oldest of all, have abilities beyond what we know now," Peliar snorted, "which she declined to clarify and that they are able to set Thessia on her feet once more."

"Are the others privy to all these?" asked Liara.

"No," Peliar shook her head. "They're mostly members of those clans that advocate rehabilitation," she looked at them steadily. "So what happens now?"

"You will return to Thessia with the rest," said Liara, brows furrowed as Shepard watched her. "And say nothing of this conversation," she turned to glance at Peliar. "If you want Thessia to regain her feet, work with us. Return to the doyen and let us know if she has any further plans for you and Jieull."

"I can do that," Peliar nodded, relieved. "But what are you going to do?"

"Work on a hunch," Liara said cryptically, cocking her head at Shepard who nodded.

"I guess we have the same idea," she said, grinning. "And we have better get back to the bartender. She may not like the wine we're bringing."


	34. Chapter 34

**Local Cluster, Unknown location**

The image expanded, rotating on an axis slowly, as she studied it carefully before minimising and doing the same for the next seven simulacrums. All the scans showed the same nick to the base of the head. The signs of similar entry wounds and wedge of scars allowed her to safely assumed the procedure was carried out with a specialized medical device. She could even visualised the steps it would have taken. The subject would be anaesthetized while inclined on the device and while he was out, a mechanised needle would inject the chip and another would administer the nanites. He would wake up, prescribed some medication and over the next few days, the chip and the nanites would do the work they were programmed to do.

_If I'm right. For all I know, they could be lining them up in the corridors and giving them simple jabs._

Now that was something she'd preferred not to be true. The implication of a painless and smooth delivery opened up an unpleasant and sinister vista she would rather not envision for the future. She'd rather the technology destroyed to prevent further corruption but then, she could also see the benefits if it was used legitimately. Every way she see it, there was no getting around that it was there to stay. Sighing softly, she switched out the images to another; an older control chip.

Stripping the data from it was easy, unlike the modified nano-chips which required two sets of security algorithms compared to one for the old. The ergonomics of the nano-chips was, however, more robust and efficient. A quick appraisal through the data was enough to know it was nothing more than an impediment towards any attempt to contact anyone outside Cerberus. None of which made any sense to her. Subjects usually were terminated once they had completed their assignments. How and why was this Saben Santino not eliminated was hard to fathom. It was a mystery she would not be able to solve since she no longer had access to any Cerberus database. With the mental faculty of the man himself shattered, it was unlikely he could provide any answers either.

Taking a look at the chronometer, she enabled a live vid feed to the LCU and watched as Santino slowly lifted a spoonful of stew to his lips with an attendant next to him. His frame was still gaunt but he had managed to put on some flesh since he arrived at the research base. The maniac bouts of fury he had displayed initially had gradually disappeared as parts of his brain began to break down further, leaving him with the symptoms of a late stage PD sufferer. Despite his condition, Alliance interogators held daily sessions in the vain hope he would be able to throw out some viable information. Most of the time, he was silent though he would seem to respond whenever the subject of Akuze was brought up. Not surprising, since he was all likely the reason Shepard's unit was wiped out on that planet and that fact had probably been his millstone.

Contemplating the vid, Miranda wondered if he would actually talk were Shepard there herself to question him. It was a long shot but she thought it should be considered. The question was when she should start pitching the idea to the brass and to Shepard herself. No doubt the retired Spectre was up to her ears in various assignments and might not spare the time but she was sure she could persuade her. Cerberus was an all important plague that has to be eradicated quickly. Sighing, she turned off the vid and returned to the algorithm she was working on. It was fortunate all eight modified control chips from the corpses of Cerberus troopers pointed to one aspect; they were all identical. Disrupting Cerberus troops could be done easily when the time came to go head on against them. That was, if the Illusive Man's lieutenants hadn't taken into their heads to change out the chips. Given the entrenching nature of the nano-chips, replacement was impossible and inadvisable.

The vidcom on her desk blipped. Without taking her eyes from her console, she reached over to answer. "Yes?"

"I can call another time if you're busy."

The familiar precise accent drew her attention immediately. "Dr Chakwas," she smiled at the silver-grey haired woman on the screen. "How did you manage to find me?"

"It wasn't easy," Chakwas said dryly. "I had to dig beneath layers of silver papers, round a few loops before it struck me I should head for the top rather than swim at the bottom. You are quite the illusive woman."

"I hope that is a joke," Miranda lifted a fine brow as her lips twisted wryly, wondering if that was a dig at her past loyalties. Though they had worked together on the Normandy under Shepard's command, their relationship had been cordial, not warm. The doctor had never really trusted her, even if she had been instrumental in reviving Shepard. Resigning from Cerberus after the mission through the Omega 4 Relay had tilted some favour her way but she suspected she would not totally have the doctor's confidence and she knew why. "Is this about Shepard?"

"Very perceptive," Chakwas nodded, eyes veiled.

Abandoning the console, Miranda turned fully to the vidcom. "Is there some development?" concern laced her voice. Chakwas, she knew, had been keeping very close tabs on Shepard once she was appraised of the technology that was used to resurrect her. That was the core of the qualms the older woman was harbouring though she had not raised the issue at any time with her but she knew it was so. And she also knew the doctor had pulled all the necessary strings to have every updated report each time Shepard had her prerequisite medical examination every year, even if she was on Thessia.

"This is perhaps a risible question but did you ever consider the ramifications in using tenebrous technology that would have a causative effect?"

"In that, yes," Miranda said patiently. "It was a shot in the dark. A calculated risk but it had to be taken, given the circumstances we were facing. The decision was not made by me but even if it were, I would not hesitate. We, humanity, the galactic community needed her whether they knew it or not."

"I would not dispute that," Chakwas sighed. "We would not be having this conversation otherwise."

"On the brighter side, doctor," added Miranda. "We may have...used her, but we also granted her another chance to build the life she wanted."

"I doubt the Illusive Man had that much altruism in him," snorted Chakwas. "You were wagering on a hand that could go badly but that's all water under the bridge now. He's gone and she's alive. Doing what she wants," a slight smile lifted her lips before she sobered. "I can ask for nothing more, which brings me to the reason of my call."

Unconsciously, Miranda straightened, braced against whatever was coming her way. Inwardly, she hoped Chakwas had good news to impart. "Yes?"

"I need a second opinion as there is no one else I can consult. And since you were in charge of the Lazarus Project," Chakwas looked down at her console at her end. "I'm sending you the last four years, up to current, cumulative medical reports on Shepard. Starting from the time she was recovered from the debris on the Citadel right up to the most recent checkup she has on the Glasgow."

Checking the message portal, Miranda transferred the data to her console, clearing away the work she was doing before keying in her security code to unlock the encrypted data. "Any specifics as to what I'm looking for?"

"You used your own genetically modified template to revamp her cellular structure, didn't you?" Chakwas said impassively.

"Yes, it was also...," Miranda hesitated, "infused with further alterations to speed up the process of recovery," she brought up the relevant data, now that she knew what she was looking for. Silence fell as she studied the notes. "Is this genuine?!" she said suddenly, stunned. "This is impossible."

"Is there a point in my feeding you false data?" returned Chakwas coolly.

"No. I'm sorry," Miranda said hastily. "I...," she waved at the console before her, "wasn't expecting this."

Chakwas nodded, accepting the apology. "Then you concur that the changes are unprecedented."

"I do. I never expect..," Miranda trailed off. What if the data was wrong? No, Chakwas would have been very thorough. She was willing to bet the doctor ran exhaustive tests before bringing her the final analysis. "Although..," she tried again to voice her bewilderment and then shook her head in disbelief. "It doesn't matter," she looked at Chakwas steadily. "So which one of us is going to tell her?"

* * *

**Thessia**

The hours were late, long past what Effia considered a decent span for any visitor dropping by the T'Soni estate. It became even more indecent when said visitors came by when the mistress was away. Official visitors at that. Granted, she couldn't deny entry to police officers on legitimate business but considering they were conducting illegal investigation of the dwelling and the surrounding grounds, she felt she had every right to see them off. But she held her peace, accomodating their every request; searching and scanning every room. Affecting bewilderment and naivety under a barrage of questions wasn't difficult. Even if they didn't believe that she knew nothing, their hands were essentially tied.

As it was, the officers descended on the estate in the early afternoon and she had spent most of the day getting dragged from one end to the other end; rueing the day she signed on as housekeeper. Until she finally ended up at the hall. Crossing her arms, she regarded the officer before her with half-lidded eyes.

"I don't know how you want me to say it," she held on to her patience with both hands. "Aethyta has gone off planet on business. I don't know what it is. Do I look like her deputy? I have my hands full running this place and keeping them in line," she waved at her assistants standing behind her.

"To date, there is no one else," the officer eyed her suspiciously, "except you and these others?"

"Yes! There are others," Effia finally snapped. How many times was the idiot going to keep asking that same question? "You, and that whole bunch turning this place upside down," she indicated the cops she could see down the hall. "Whole planet's filled with vermin. Why couldn't you have plowed around out there instead of wasting your time here?"

"No need to get your crest in a twist," the officer closed down her omni-tool. "Pack it up," she said to her assistant who muttered into a comlink and gestured to those nearest to her to leave the hall. "If anyone should turn up, I hope you'll notify us."

"Anyone?" queried Effia, narrowing her eyes. "Shall I inform Captain Shepard that she has to drop by the station to report her presence when she returns home?"

The officer's face blanched as she watched grimly. "That is..er..., no, that is.., " the officer stuttered, as if struck by sudden enlightenment of whose home she was standing in before moving away quickly. "No. That is not necessary," she said hurriedly before making a rapid exit, almost running in her haste; as if she expected Shepard to appear on her heels.

Effia watched her go, wishing she could send a biotic throw after just to vent her pique. Nothing like reminding insignificant gophers exactly whose territory they were stomping on. Not that the T'Soni name carried any less weight but Shepard was in a class no one could ever touch and everyone knew it. If the human had been around, she doubted whoever had sent the cops to the estate would have even attempt it on a lame pretense. Snorting under breath, she sent her assistants to the entrance to make sure the cops left before locking down the place for the night while she made a round to all the rooms to check that nothing was amissed. Not that the cops would have dared to mess up the place but she didn't trust any one of them not to slyly slipped in a foreign object where it didn't belong. With the way things were, she wouldn't be surprised to find a few hiding in the closet.

An hour later, she sent everyone to bed and tucked herself into her own but she did not sleep. She laid there, eyes closed but listening to the even breaths of the others. Slowly, she withdrew into a semi-conscious state and allowed herself to float in an ocean of darkness, enlivened by sprinkles of bright stars that weaved in and out of spinning globes. Setting herself on red-hued star, she rode it as it visited every nearby globe; memories of her past she occasionally delved in. The tiny vibration on her arm; she would hardly have felt it were she fully asleep, brought her out. Tabbing her omni-tool, she brought up the spy vids planted around the dwelling and watched as black figures descended on the roof. With alacrity, they made their way to the large cold room in the kitchen and disappeared into it. Half an hour went by before something lit on her omni-tool.

_Found the cellar eh?_

Smiling humorlessly, she waited. Several long minutes went by before the intruders appeared. That they were disappointed and befuddled was obvious in their carriage. Two of them were having a discussion. Foolishness but then, they didn't think anyone would hear them. How naive. Eventually, they headed back up to the roof where ropes were dropped down from a vehicle, possibly a shuttle and left. Smiling, she turned off her omni-tool, turned to her side and allowed herself to sleep. Dawn was but a few hours away and she need to get some rest. It would be a busy day.

* * *

**Local Cluster, Earth, Citadel**

Mass relay, latent snare, nexus, home. The Citadel was those and more. Even not looking at its best, it never failed to draw a sense of awe from Shepard. Watching from the viewport of their cabin with Liara, she recalled how she had felt years ago when she first saw the ancient monolithic space station onboard the Normandy SR1. Then, Turian and Asari warships cruised the neighbourhood, along with thousands of other vessels; private and commercial, before humans added their own warships. It was still the same except that the ratio had changed; human vessels were now predominant with only a few token Turian, Asari and Salarian cruisers. Hardly surprising since the Citadel was now stuck in Earth's orbit. Along with this new satellite, were several Quarian liveships and Geth dropships. But what was that sitting beside an Alliance cruiser?

Squinting, Shepard peered. "Did they send a dreadnought?" she muttered, half to herself.

"Yes, that is a Geth dreadnought," affirmed Liara, following her gaze. "Amazing, is it not? Years ago, it would have been shot down."

"Not before it sparked off massive panic," Shepard tapped the glass, "my guess is it would have perhaps taken up to a quarter of the Citadel fleet or more before any significant damage is dealt."

"I hope we never find out," Liara returned Shepard's startled gaze gravely. "As you said, the door swings both ways. We should not expect the Geth to remain at the coactive stage," she turned around and leaned against the window sill. "Sooner or later, they will be as factionlist as the rest of us."

"In that, you're right," Shepard pursed her lips thoughtfully, staring at the dreadnought. "We can only try to get as many of them to evolve in empathy with us. The other," she sighed, "is to build better ships that are on parity with theirs."

"Not least, to write better firewalls to counter their hacking ability...," Liara reached out to pull at a lock of fringe falling into Shepard's eyes, "..do you need a haircut?"

"You're topic jumping today," Shepard took her hand, rubbing her thumb across her palm; hard and callused with short fingernails. The same as her own. She knew why her bondmate was restless.

_How're you feeling?_

_Anxious. I know she would have planned it out carefully but I wish she had left a message. This is just so...irresponsible._

_What're you going to do when she gets back to us? Spank her ass? {laugh} Who's the parent now?_

_If only I could. {amusement} It is so strange...even after two years, I still find it unusual to have a dad._

_How strange is that? Considering she wasn't around for the most part of your life. I plan to be around for ours. As long as I draw breath._

_And that makes promise number..?_

_What, think I can't keep them all?_

_Just keeping track._

Smiling, they kissed gently before looking out of the window. The Glasgow was now approaching the docking ring, heading towards the berth it was allotted. Nestled in the other berths were Alliance cruisers. A few were framed by scaffolds with numerous tiny bright sparks flaring now and then. With all their resources concentrated on rebuilding infrastructures on earth, the Alliance had chosen to use the numerous berths on the Citadel that were more than capacious to harbour warships; from frigates to dreadnoughts, to repair and overhaul damaged ships. Building new dry docks, billets for personnel and the dozen of other things that constitute a shipyard was just too costly and time consuming. Rather pointless when a ready made facility was already available. As far as they could see, not only were there Alliance ships, Allied warships were also undergoing the same makeover.

As the Glasgow eased into the berth, the engines were powered down when docking clamps latched on to the hull and held the ship fast. An all clear rang out onboard, releasing the floodgate of of anticipation that had been building ever since they left Ilos. With the cruiser in dock, most of the crew was looking forward to a bit of R&R. Hence when Shepard and Liara exited their cabin with their duffels, the corridors were abuzzed with light conversations and scurrying from those who were tipped to be in the first group to go on shore leave, eager to finish up their chores. Eventually, only a rotating skeleton crew would remain onboard during the duration of a scheduled light overhaul and discharging of the core.

They made their way down to the airlock and had a brief word with commander Canning before stepping through the opened hatch, the ship's VI noting their departure as they did so. Then on through the security gauntlet; numerous scans scintillating off them. To Shepard's relief, there was no officious representative lying in wait at the other end, only Alliance personnel and civilians milling around the arrival hall. Other than the occasional glances, no one intercepted them. Hopefully, they would remain incognito. They made their way to the cab stand and a cab soon responded to their call.

Half an hour later, they were unpacking their duffels in the apartment the Alliance had rented on their behalf. Since the meeting with Aria was not due that day, Shepard changed into civvies; less chance of being recognised. A walk in the Presidium Gardens was the most looked forward itinerary, followed up by dinner at one of the cafes. After Ilos, she was all ready for a change of scenery, that of the living than the dead. As she sat on the bed, waiting for Liara who was in the bathroom, the door chimed. Surprised, she froze for a moment. Who would be calling in on them? Other than Tevos, Aria and the Alliance, no one knew they were on the Citadel. Perhaps it was Aria. Snorting to herself at that ridiculous assumption, she went to the door, checked the door vid, grinned and palmed it opened.

"You do know you're in need of some spanking?" Shepard crossed her arms as Aethyta walked in.

"Yeah? I'm not sure Liara would approve of your hitting on me, she strikes me as the jealous type," Aethyta winked suggestively at her.

"You're incorrigible," returned Shepard. Zounds, if she were married to a human partner, she seriously doubted she would be tossing such remarks to her in-laws. As if knowing what she was thinking, Aethyta laughed as she made her way to one of the armchairs. "No, don't even think about it," she rolled her eyes when the Asari paused before the bed and cast a longer lingering look at it and her.

A voice broke in. "Think about what?" A towel over her head, Liara emerged from the bathroom. It slipped to her shoulders when she pulled it away. "Dad!"

"Well, it's been a long time since young ones throw themselves at me," laughed Aethyta when Liara strolled quickly to her and flung her arms around her. "Looking good, Little Wing," she tipped Liara's chin up to look at her carefully. "Worried?"

"A message would have helped," Liara said sternly. "It is very remiss of you to leave us wondering what had happened."

"Damn, you sound like your mother," patting Liara' s cheek, Aethyta looked around before settling into one of the armchairs. "She never did like my slipping the leash off now and then."

Ignoring the comment on Benezia, Liara settled down on the couch with Shepard. "Where did you go?"

"I snucked off and came right here after Nyrine was stabilized enough to travel. Long before their commandos report back to them."

"How is Nyrine?" said Shepard.

"Conscious," Aethyta sighed, "which is a good thing. That gal put in a lot of effort. I would hate to see her expectations cut short. She's up at Huerta Memorial Hospital if you're interested."

"I'll drop by later and you could have informed me exactly what she was up to."

"I need you at your honest best," Aethyta shrugged. "Wouldn't have fooled the watchers otherwise."

"Does Tevos know you're here?" Shepard said suspiciously, wondering what the Asari Councilor thought of having an Assembly member in the doghouse roaming her backyard.

"Keeping my head down. The less she knows, the better. Oh it's not that Tevos's a bad sort," Aethyta continued, "but I don't want to create too many lumps for her to deal with."

"And where did you put _**her**_?" Liara queried emphatically. Surely Aethyta wouldn't have brought her to the Citadel, the scanners would have screamed the minute she set foot on the space station and even if she was allowed entry, she couldn't think of a safe holding.

"Used to be a drunkard can pass out right out there on the streets and no one would have even noticed a dirtbag. Now, there's scarce a bolthole on Thessia, can't even hide a century old vintage without someone sniffing it out," complained Aethyta sourly, "so I sent her to Sur'Kesh."

"They might not find the answer," said Liara, hazarding a guess why her parent would send the old matriach to the Salarians.

"Never expect them to," said Aethyta. "I just need a round the clock guard and Salarians are the only ones who don't complain about long hours and pay. Besides, they're practical," she straightened, "and I called in some favors. Did Peliar say anything?"

"That she did," Liara nodded and recounted what the Asari researcher had revealed.

At the end of it, Aethyta shook her head. "That's the downside. Say what you like about consensus and accomodation, you get to spout all the talk you want but it all boils down to the weight of one's station when push comes to shove, rightly or no," she heaved a sigh. "So she has no idea what's with the old hag?"

"We...," Liara hesitated, looking at Shepard who nodded to her encouragingly, "have speculations."

"Well, spit it out," Aethyta said impatiently when she fell silent. "The sooner I get those stubborn asses to move, the better for everyone."

"I would have to go back to an incident years back..," Liara stopped again. "I think it is your story to tell," she said, feeling that it was better that her bondmate picked up the reins.

"Alright," Shepard leaned forward, clasping her hands loosely before her. "Back when I was chasing Saren, I went to Feros and encountered an ancient sentient plant-like creature that was called the Thorian. This creature revitalised itself after every hibernation by making thralls out of whichever race happened to be on Feros, used them and absorbed them. In so doing, it had knowledge spanning hundreds of thousands of years. Saren needed information on the Protheans, he gave in exchange one of Benezia's students, Shiala."

"Shiala!" Aethyta exclaimed. "Damn, she was one of Benezia's best students. Whatever happened to her?"

"She's fine, she moved to Asteria after the war," said Shepard, recalling an email she had received from the Asari a week ago. With the few Zhu's Hope colonists that had survived with her, they had all opted to shift to the agrarian planet rather than returned to Feros. The years after seemed to have wrought a change in the accidental link brought about by the Thorian spores they were exposed to; they no longer explicitly feel one another's physical traumas and thoughts. In her letter, Shiala had expressed her relief though they felt the lost. The link had been a burden and a joy to bear. With the war over, she and the rest just want to build new homes and live peaceful lives. Shepard hoped they would find it. One of these days, she and Liara would visit Asteria to see how Shiala was.

"Have to catch up with her soon," murmured Aethyta, lost in thoughts, "but you were saying?"

"The Thorian was killed and I freed Shiala and she gave to me what she gave Saren, the Prothean Cipher that she found within the Thorian's mind. It was explained that it was essentially the essence of the Protheans, a cultural viewpoint. One that would enable me to understand the messages from the Prothean beacons we found."

"Did it?"

"Yes, with Liara's aid, we were able to track down Saren and brought an end to the first Reaper attempt to invade."

"Hmm...I heard stories aplenty. The Assembly then, suddenly placed a ton of security protocols around the archives when I went straight for the hard facts," said Aethyta. "I didn't understand it then but when the Reapers showed up, I figured they were the reason."

"Are the Assembly archives still in existence?" said Liara. If they were, perhaps they could get pertinent evidence on the old matriach.

"I have no idea," confessed Aethyta. "Those stubborn morons are buttoned up tight as a maiden's corset," she snorted in exasperation. "They are running out of time any way they try to turn."

"What do you mean?" Liara didn't like the sound of that.

"Our patience is at an end. If we cannot find the answer to break the deadlock within the next few weeks, we will bring the right of concensus to the people," Aethyta saw the shock in Liara's eyes. "We have to, child."

"What does that mean?" Shepard said worriedly, she could feel the distress in her bondmate.

"The right of consensus takes away the authority of the Assembly. All are equal, everyone has to vote on the affirmed proposals and irregardless of the outcome...," Liara trailed off.

"The Assembly ends," finished Aethyta grimly. "The unity will disband and every clan has to decide their course."

"It...it has not happened in thousands of years...hardly ever..," Liara stuttered. "The chaos...I cannot believe..."

Realising Liara was deeply upset, Aethyta hurriedly moved to sit beside her. "There, there," she hugged Liara, "you're panicking. Understandable, with a little one on the way."

"Can the clans decide to form another Assembly?" said Shepard.

"They can," Aethyta rubbed Liara's shoulders soothingly. "But you have to understand the disenchantment most of us are feeling with those who are impeding progress. There are those who may choose to leave Thessia to found another colony of their own. It had happened before in our history but those were mostly sub-clans."

"Then should the major clans leave..," Shepard understood Liara's anxiety. It was akin to losing parts of yourself that had always been there; functional, dependable. In a way, it was like having a sickness that suddenly blew up in your face, leaving you fewer and fewer capacity to live a full life. "It may not happen, love," she said to Liara. "Perhaps what we learned on Ilos may help."

"Which is?" Aethya looked at her without ceasing her ministrations, feeling the tenseness in Liara easing a little.

"The Cipher is not what it seems. I'm not sure if Shiala understood exactly what it is either, I would have to ask her," said Shepard. "I find myself with the ability to decipher Prothean records, I can read their script and I know the codes to some of their security nodes. I can..," she paused for a moment, "speak their language."

"What?!" Aethyta stared at her incredulously.

"It is true," Liara sat up, squeezing Aethyta's hand gratefully. "During the war, we found a working Prothean cryogenic pod. Without those abilities, we could not have found the means to release the Prothean."

"That's...what...," Aethyta frowned. "Javik, that's his name, isn't it?"

"Yes. On Ilos, we were able to get to the Prothean archives and revived the Watcher, Vigil," continued Shepard. "That's how we found the signal scrambler the Prothean researchers had devised."

"I'm afraid I've been a little out of touch. Ducking and running. What signal scrambler?"

"It is a device that changed the indoctrination signal the Reaper apparatus emanates. The original intent was to have the TI kill themselves but we thought we should try to reprogram it to have the TI turn passive," explained Liara.

"Ahh, I'm not sure many would disagree on having the TI turn themselves off but it is a good notion," Aethyta was pleased. "If it works, it certainly settles the TI problem."

"That's what we hope. Vigil also provided alot of historical information, most especially on what is the Cipher."


	35. Chapter 35

**Local Cluster, Earth, Citadel**

The air might be cool and fresh but there was no disguising the faint lingering trace of opiates. The place was moderately crowded, voices coming together in a harmonious murmur with one or two pitched slightly higher or rumbling like stones. Against this backdrop, doctors and nurses moved with positive intent among patients, patient wings and labs. A huge difference from the tense, chaotic scene four years ago. Walking through the corridors, she was reminded of the times she had dropped by, the people she had visited and spoken to; Thane, Kolyat, Dr Michel, Dr Chakwas, Jacob, Kaiden. Of them all, only Dr Chakwas and Kaiden survived the war and she had no idea if Kolyat had made it. She could only hope he had. To her surprise, when she entered the patient wing for the Asari, Nyrine was not alone. Sanar and another Asari were by her side. Her appearance was not expected either.

Half an hour later, she made her way to the Streams restaurant at the Presidium Commons to join Liara and Aethyta. Conversation was light as they dined on a simple three-course dinner, tossing the possibility of a tour around London while they were there. Just how much London had been restored Shepard and Liara were keen to find out, having seen it in ruins in the last phase of the war. Shepard was of a mind to try the beam conduit on the return trip. She didn't remember much of her journey through it four years ago, it had all been a flash of light, darkness and then a confusing whirlwind of sparkles before she found herself face down on the floor. Thus far, no one had attempted it other than the Alliance sending hard materials up to the space station, killing two birds with one stone; facilitating cheaper, faster goods transfer and conducting experiments on how safe it was. Like the primary mass relays, it seemed to go in one direction; Earth to the Citadel. Liara put her foot down on that idea however; she didn't need Shepard to take up a career as a lab rat. To that, several rejoiners hovered but Shepard decided to keep her peace.

"A pity none of the detractive members of the Assembly are on hand," said Aethyta as they sauntered along the path winding through the gardens that surround the reservoir, "I would volunteer all of them. Scramble them around and see if they're any better on the other end. Hardly a lost if they ended up fried."

"I would hate to have you on my tail," said Shepard, halting by a bench. A fountain gushed nearby, a perfect spot for them to relax and chat. With the artificial sky overhead turning dark grey, lamps were lit all across the Presidium, casting dreamy reflections on the water. Trees and bushes cast reaching shadows. Scattered around the garden were a mixture of groups, all looking to immerse themselves in the lazy hours of the evening. There was nobody near the trio who sat down on the grass. For several minutes no one said anything, each was lost in her own thoughts as she gazed at the water.

"Nyrine's far different than I thought," said Shepard, breaking the silence, cupping her chin in her hand, arm resting on a knee. The academy captain had been both surprised and embarrassed to see her; the reason being all too obvious in the latter, when she turned up. Conversation had begun slowly but gradually warmed up with Sanar and Hiaras helpfully smoothing over any awkwardness. Far from being the thickheaded mulish conservative, Nyrine was proving the opposite. Her strong discontent with the Assembly was clear when the discussion turned to Thessia with the other two offering equal criticisms. Without a doubt, should the motion Aethyta put forth come to pass, she would not lack supporters.

A chuckle drew her attention back to Aethyta. "Knew she has it in her. Guess she has her mom's genes afterall," she flicked a tiny insect off her robe. "She used to act in screenplays. My, was she hot then. Could have swum in pools of credits with offers going her way but after one look at her bondmate, she dumped it all and hid herself on some freezing planet to teach. Turned out she was good at it too."

"What kind of screenplays?" asked Liara curiously. Watching movies had been her favourite hobby and she had amassed a large collection of mementos before she headed to the higher institutions to further her studies. Not a single souvenir survived the years and the war.

"Dramas. Three Depths, Born To The Blue? No matter," Aethyta shrugged when Liara shook her head. "Hardly any in the first and second cycle would have heard of her. And never will," she sighed regretfully before turning to Shepard. "But, if you're really going ahead with that plan of yours, Nyrine will put in every effort to work with you."

"That's what I think too," agreed Shepard and added, "Sanar seems to be preoccupied." She was not sure how she should classed the relationship between Hiaras and Sanar. There was an air of closeness between them that implied much but she could be mistaken.

"They're not making out yet. Not at that degree of intimacy," Aethyta supplied helpfully, guessing correctly what she was uncertain about. "It's not all lust and meld," she grinned. "Trying to see if they could tread the waters in unison is the first step though I know Hiaras is itching to dump Sanar on the bed the way she looks at her."

"Dad."

"Fine, I'll take a timeout," Aethyta took pity on Liara's barely patient countenance. "Shall we continue where we left off before she starts itching for some other dessert?"

"I am hardly at that stage," Liara wished she had not drunk so much of the wine at dinner; she could feel the beginnings of a headache and less tolerance to withstand Aethyta's idiosyncrasies.

Picking up her discomfort, Shepard sympathised. Aethyta was best taken in small doses. Not to mention the fact that she had noticed her bondmate inbibing more than usual which would add to the anxiety she was feeling ever since Aethyta announced the intent to dissolve the Assembly.

"You were saying about the Cipher?" Aethyta's impatient voice broke her train of thought. In answer, she reached out, offering a handshake to Aethyta who looked at it in puzzlement, "What?"

"If you were to touch my hand, could you see into my mind? Read everything that I am?"

"Other than bonding, I could perhaps pick up stronger emotions," said Aethyta, curious at where she was going with the question.

"Not so for the Protheans. They were born with profound tactile sensory ability," Shepard leaned closer to Aethyta. There was no one about and the sound of the fountain would distort her words but the less audible she was the better. "With a touch of his fingers, Javik could read the mind of a person. And of those who had acquaintance with materials. I've seen him read with precision, of those who had once shared the same quarters as he on the Normandy and he had never even met them," she read Aethyta's disbelief in her eyes. "He gave some insights of his people but from the Prothen VI, we learnt more of their culture and abilities. Like the Asari who were trained from young to master basic control of their biotics, the Protheans were trained to decipher whatever they touched and imprint memories into special repositories called echo shards. These shards were passed from generation to generation but some of the imprints were imperfect, resulting in the lost of information. In an effort to prevent such loses, a small group experimented with another way of memory storage."

"Which is?" Aethyta prompted, a slight worry creeping in when Shepard looked apprehensive.

"Cumulative repository in physical bodies."

At that, Aethyta's relaxed pose stiffened. "They did what?!" she said incredulously. "Did you say cumulative? That's not pos...," she began to say but stopped abruptly.

Shepard wondered what had cropped up in her mind but continued with her narrative.

"New ideas never worked right from the start. Mistakes were made but they got it right eventually," she said. "And they continued to improve it. Not all Protheans were eligible, they had to test to find those who had the abilities they were looking for. Once the candidate had successfully passed through his training and tests, another assessment was carried out before the appropriate memory was transferred. When it was done, he was sent to the relevant administration, to serve until certain factors determined he could not continue. The present avatar would begin preparations to inject his own selective memories into the whole and the transfer would be carried out with the next candidate."

"Not all Protheans...it sounded esoteric," Aethyta said shrewdly.

"Yes, they were called Zgagis or Avatars of Memories," said Liara, not surprised she discerned it straight away. "It seemed they were revered, likely exalted among the Protheans."

"The Cipher is one of these avatars." It was a statement than a question. Clearly, she had arrived at the same conclusion as they. Shepard suspected they had brought along the wrong personnel on the expedition. If Aethyta had been with them from the onstart, they could have perhaps reduced the time they had taken to revive Vgil though not possibly before she drove Liara and a few others round the corner.

"It is. One of the head researchers of Ilos was called to the Feros colony to investigate a mysterious outbreak. As it turned out, the Thorian was in the midst of padding its nest for the next hibernation cycle which occurred just before the Reaper invasion. With all mass relays shut down, he was trapped and the entire colony was absorbed. His name was Irzik Pythan."

"How did you know his identity? You're not suggesting he spoke to you?" a shiver went down Aethyta's spine, she couldn't imagine having a conscious memory speaking to her in her own mind.

Shepard waved her hand in denial, horrified by the thought. If such a thing had happened, it's all too likely she'll end up as a basket case. "No. The Cipher is just the encapsulation of a vast store of memories, it has no personality nor true consciousness. It's just that the Cipher provided me with the codes to break the Prothean security nodes and the mainframe recognised the code."

"Provided? How?"

"I have no idea," Shepard admitted, perturbed. The idea of using something buried within her mind without understanding how it worked had been daunting but she didn't have much of a choice. "I just...," she tried to describe it, "look at the thing, say an encrypted Prothean vid and sooner or later, somehow, I know how to decipher it."

"I think it is an intuitive process," said Liara. "Perhaps each avatar used some form of mental ability to form a protective layer when he added his memories to the whole. Like building a new room to an existing dwelling to store his possessions, leaving behind a door through which it can be accessed. A strong thought or perhaps desire could open that door."

"That is plausible," Aethyta said thoughtfully. "So what is this thought you two have that could be relevant on what's happening to the Assembly and on that old hag?"

Exchanging a glance with Shepard, Liara said, "The temple of Athame held many clues, all pointing to Prothean interference in Asari evolution. Javik said the Asari were the most promising younger species they had come across, such that they took an interest in providing guidance and protection. He did not specifically alluded to what it was that made us attractive, perhaps it was our biotic and mental abilities. Because of this, we were thinking...," another glance with Shepard who nodded encouragingly, "what if they had also taught memory repository to the Asari?"

For a few minutes, Aethyta didn't say anything, deep in thought and they watched her keenly, wondering if she would agree with their assessment. Years before, Liara would have thought it outrageous the Protheans had anything to do with the Asari, that the Assembly was secretly hiding Prothean acrhives but after the incident at Athame, she couldn't deny that the Assembly themselves had contravened the very laws they had set up to ensure equitable apportion of Prothean data throughout the galactic community.

"One question," said Aethyta. "So far you have only the knowledge of this Irzik Pythan, which I gathered was the last guardian of his repository. Were you able to look into the other doors?" she looked at Shepard, eyes hooded.

"I didn't try. I don't know how. I'm not trained as a Prothean would have been."

"What I have to say cannot go beyond," Aethyta waited till they murmured their assent. "Asari in their first and second cycles would not know about this. Those in the third, wouldn't either, saved for a few but there is an unspoken practise to test politically aspiring Asari on certain mental capabilties. Mainly, memory transference."

"Wait, are you saying...," Liara stared at her, eyes wide.

"You did suspect it, didn't you? Why are you so shocked?" chided Aethyta.

"I..," Liara sighed. "I suppose I was hoping you would disprove the idea. Such an ability denotes just how far the Protheans had reached into us."

"I would be surprised if they had stood idly by with the knowledge and power they had," Aethyta said dryly. "I myself was tested by my mentor when I started my third cycle. I never knew or understood what it was all about but I was told it was a prerequisite procedure to test my abilties. She didn't explain what kind of abilties she was looking for, only that I was sufficient," she chuckled as she recalled the conversation; her questions had been bordering on the impertinent in her desire to know the reasons behind the test. "Oh she didn't say it in so many words but even if I had passed that little test, my mouth would have disqualified me," she snorted deprecatingly at herself. "Didn't think much of it until now. So if it is true, that old hag herself is an avatar. One of many who survived the war. The question is, how far back do those memories go?"

"Might it be ...all the way back to when they first started?" The idea was mind boggling. Liara found it hard to absorb as she tried to imagine, without success, looking through a multitude of memories stretching thousands of years back.

"It's possible...I'm not sure I can take it all in," confessed Shepard. "But it does explain the Assembly's stance, their decisions. They don't want to lose those avatars."

"Fichar's quad," Aethyta spat in disgust. "That's why they lied to the younglings to get them to fall in line. None of them would swallow that rubbish about special immunity. Browbeating ageing wisdom on their heads when everyone, even a child, knows organics have no ability to withstand Reaper indoctrination. Since they are prepared to abandon lives without just cause to try to get those avatars back, there is also good reason to suspect they had been the heavy weights behind the Assembly for thousands of years."

"What are you going to do?" said Liara, as outraged at the duplicity but reining in her temper. "This is just speculation, there is no evidence."

Aethyta did not immediately answer, inwardly, she weighed the few options.

"There is one fact we can't deny," Shepard thought there was one other thing they should take into consideration. "These avatars are able to extend their life span. You did say she has exceeded expectations."

"That much capability...is plausible but that old hag is indoctrinated, beyond doubt," Aethyta said slowly. "As to whether she is indeed holding a vast storage of memories. The only thing to find out if it's true is..."

"No!" objected Liara, knowing what she was going to say. "Not that. It is too dangerous to meld with an unstable personality," she said forcefully, fearing Aethyta would try it herself.

"She's right, it's too risky to get porous evidence that wouldn't hold water. Question her instead," Shepard suggested, equally revolted by the idea of a mind meld with a TI. Who knew the one initiating the meld wouldn't be infected as well?

"Right, and get showered with waves of spitting invectives, it doesn't accomplish anything either," Aethyta sighed and reached over to pat Liara's hand, temper cooling at seeing her fear. "Don't worry, I'm not that desperate to lose my brains or ask anyone to, merely trying it out." But what to do with the old one? "Perhaps I should release her into their custody. What do you suppose they would think when they see her?"

"Dispel any hope that the avatars had survived intact," Liara thought that was a good gambit. "They might finally authorised a full fledge campaign to take back Thessia."

"Or, they continue to hang on stubbornly to their course to retrieve all the avatars," put in Shepard. "In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they do so, their grading card for the past two years aren't exactly top-notch or logical."

"It would not have mattered, if the public should get hold of this information, the consequences if they cannot answer for their actions," Liara shuddered at the thought.

"Nihilism," Aethyta said bluntly. "The people will hunt. All the things they had kept under for thousands of years would come to light. Nepotisms, dealings, whatever. Clans within the republics would sunder even further, traditions, affiliations would be abandoned. Faith is destroyed," she closed her eyes. "We will not be the Asari."

Gloom settled over them as they contemplated the fate of a race, once premier, thrown down into obscurity.

"No. I will not allow it. They will fall, one way or another if they fail to see reason."

That sounded like a vow. One that Aethyta seemed adamant in seeing it through. Liara half wondered if the next year would see a disunited Thessia and fervently prayed it would not be so.

* * *

**Thessia**

It was a rare occasion. As rare as an Asari born with the hue of sapphire. Or perhaps the hue of rich amber of honey wine. Lifting her glass to the light, Telienos examined the colour of the liqeuer. Close but not attaining that intensity of prescribed quality. A sip brought sweet spicy heat to her mouth and down her throat. Ahhh, how long it had been since she last tasted wine that good? A hand proferred a bowl of dried petals which she took with a murmur of thanks. Clutching her own bowl, Zelenia settled into the lounge chair, taking a sip from her own glass on the small table between them before slipping a petal into her mouth.

"Five hundred?" she said after a while, thumbing a key on her chair to lower the shade when the rays of the sun glinted brightly into the verandah.

"Five hundred, seventy-six days," Telienos said softly.

"Fleeting as the light, slippery as the shadow," a sigh escaped Zelenia. "Remember what we said to each other at the spaceport then?"

Telienos laughed as she recalled the aspiring visions they had exchanged. Though not as fresh faced as they were when they first met, the fires of dreams had burnt strongly. "And look where we are now?"

"Drinking wine, eating flowers, looking at that skyline," Zelenia waved at the buildings opposite them. "Have you seen the like?" she said bitterly. "Never, **never** do we have to fear the skies but now we are mounting turrets and shields at every building, looking at everything that flies. Nor did we have to fear our borders but now we huddled behind walls, barricades, turrets and the lives of our young," angrily, she downed the rest of her drink and reached for the wine bottle, pouring another measure into her glass.

Telienos could have spoken words of caution on drinking too much but she knew Zelenia would temper herself; there hadn't been much change in her saved for the scars of experience in her tumultuous career, so she held her tongue. "Have you seen the forums?" she said instead, munching another petal; bland and crispy, it offset the sweetness and fire of the wine. A favourite snack with them. How they had spent days and days in finding the proper recipe that would suit their tastebuds for the flowers and their delight when they found it.

"Within, without, the clamour is growing louder and louder," a vindictive smile lifted Zelenia's lips as she thought of the overwhelming deluge of arguments against the current policies of the Assembly. Official intervention and statements had failed to stem the tide. It was only a matter of time before the surging waves become a flood to wash the incumbents off their perches. "The rest of us are prepared for the dissolution but are they? Are they prepared to be ejected?"

"They might well be," putting aside the bowl, Telienos sat up so as to see Zelenia better. "I do not believe they did not see this development right from the start."

"It has crossed my mind as well," admitted Zelenia. "What are they trying to achieve to take such a path? The answer would have to be one that touches the heart of us all or they would not have done it. What are the Aiahcra? Where do they stand relative to us?"

Telienos nodded, finding no fault in that determination. "They are resolved to hold on to them. Are these Aiachra worth the lives of so many? We are diminished in the war and this continued attrition is reducing us further. We cannot afford to carry on as we are, yet they persist," her fist thudded onto the armrest of the lounge chair. "We waste time with questions."

Zelenia fingered her glass, staring at her in amusement. "That would have been mine to state."

"Yes, you would," laughed Telienos. "Old friend, the sea leaves no one untouched, not unless she dwells at the bottom. Unseeing, unknowing."

"They would exemplify such a fate for us," said Zelenia with loathing, eyes clouded with memories of much pain. "Much as it had been," she started when Telienos reached to touch her hand.

"Old friend, what's done is done," Telienos said with sympathy. "Let the past serve as example, not rule. Should Aethyta not find the answer, the Prothean device would force their hand."

"Then a double strike would see to the demise of their aspirations. Let us drink to that."

Gravely, Telienos picked up her glass and drank. If Aethyta could find the answer to the Aiachra, it would weaken their opponents even further. Leaving them no options than to renounce their policies. That would be better than forcing through the Right of Concensus. Something they were desperately trying to avoid. But with the weight of opinions growng louder, the advocates who had been delaying found there was hardly any point deferring the subject. With the next convocation mere days away, Shepard's success at Ilos was a beacon of hope.

"Where have you been hoarding this wine?" Feeling the effects of the liqeuer, Zelenia poured a mere fingerlength into her glass. It would not do to get drunk, she still had to return to the academy later.

"Kaleia," Telienos grinned when her friend paused in the act of drinking. "A gift for sharing my thoughts with her."

"Should have know they would send sniffers. You kicked her out disappointed, I hope."

"Without a doubt, after I made it clear I am supporting the use of the Prothean device even if the researchers on Ilos fail to alter the original programming. She left it behind in her haste."

"You did run tests on it, no?" Zelenia examined the liquid in her glass and looked over when Telienos remained silent. "Lienny!" she growled softly.

"Really, do you still think me the fool after all these years?"

"Never," said Zelenia firmly. "Though I had wished you were not as far away you were, I'm glad all the same. You might not be here to share this with me."

"Let's not bring that up again," sighed Telienos, not wishing to go over an old argument again. They did that five hundred years ago at the spaceport, rather pointless tramping dead old grounds. A muffled boom drew her attention to the window. "What was that?"

Getting up hurriedly, Zelenia went to the window, peering in the direction of the spaceport. Was it another attack? Just then, a siren rang out across the city, just as another boom went off. This time, it seemed to come from another direction. Their omni-tools lit up simultaneously; messages from their subordinates, requiring their presence back at their respective offices. They stared at each other in disbelief. The siren meant the city was under attack.

"By the Goddess, look!" Telienos pointed to the building opposite theirs. In automatic response to the city wide alarm, shields that had been installed around every dwelling had come online. An explosion went off against the blue glow and debris rained down. Faint screams could be heard.

"Come! I'll get you to the centre!" Zelenia pulled at Telienos who ran after her as she made for the front door. Out in the corridors, those who lived on the same floor were already out, flowing towards the lifts to get down to the bunkers in the basement. They made, not for the lifts, but for the carpark just a floor above.

"Shields?" gasped Telienos as they piled into Zelenia's skycar.

"Not on this one, don't worry. Take eyes," said Zelenia, disengaging the car VI and taking manual control.

"Just like old times," murmured Telienos, watching the skies outside as the skycar lifted. "That was not a rocket that went off."

"Got that, going to skim the skin. They can't pin that on me," said Zelenia tersely, diving the skycar all the way down the building.

"You could at least slow down!" Telienos gripped her seat in fear as they dove past several skcars that were still in the air. By rights, all skycars should have grounded the moment the siren sounded but some denizens felt they should get to their destinations as fast as possible and did not do so.

"Relax."

They leveled off several meters above the ground, crowds were running for shelter, trying to dodge wreckage that rained down on them. As Telienos looked across the city, she could see the flicking lights from the Gardian turrets atop buildings firing away. Madness. The TI must have driven their vehicles as high an altitude as they could go and then descend at speed at their targets. It could only be a suicide run, they knew the city had defenses. Instinctively, she threw up her arms as their skycar rocked; metal debris had rained down on them as they passed beneath the buildings that were attacked.

"We're not the target," said Zelenia, pulling the skycar further out, leaving as far a distance between the buildings and them as possible.

"No...this is insane."

"Which they are all along," she quipped.

"Something set them off."

"Aethyta is not going to be pleased," Zelenia poured on more speed. It was essential she get back to the academy, she had an inkling the academy resources would be called upon. Something which she dreaded very much. Her friend said nothing when she weaved dangerously in and out among the buildings, at times barely clearing corners and debris asshe took shortcuts to get them to the medical centre. To Telienos's dismay, she could see the frenetic activies at the entrance when they arrived. Her hope that there would be few casualties were dashed when she saw how many wounded there were. Exiting the skycar quickly when it set down, she turned to exchange a glance with Zelenia. They knew each other long enough to know what each were saying. Zelenia nodded to her, closing the door before driving off. She reached the academy in record time to find her assistant, Pesair, at the entrance, waiting to update her.

"Sectors?" she rapped out, strolling quickly through the corridor to the lift.

"All of them, Izharia," said Pesair, running after her. "Izhar T'Annor wants all recruits to reinforce forces at barriers. Updates are now available at CIC," she said as they took the lift down. "She is designating control of sector C1 to C5 to you."

All of them. Zelenia closer her eyes, feeling the ache in her heart. Fury at the Assembly rose to the fore but she pushed it away. Such distractions she could do without, if she wanted to ensure few casualties among the recruits.

"Alliance and Geth forces have been authorised access to airspace."

"How many?" If the Alliance and Geth have been called in, the scale of the attack must be unprecedented. She dreaded to see what the CIC would show.

"Currently, only one Alliance cruiser, the Colenso. Her captain is sending down all the ground troops he has and will cover sector A2. Geth dropships number 25, covering sectors B3 to B4," Pesair's voice trembled and Zelenia wondered why. "Sharzis is also under attack so Geth dropships are split between. Our own cruisers are covering the rest."

So few. If the Assembly had allowed the Geth to deploy more ships, recovery would have been faster. And they would have more ships to provide support but no, the Assembly had chosen to do otherwise! The urge to run to the CIC was strong but she set herself a very past pace once they were out of the lift, thankful that she had chosen to wear a long tunic and pants. CIC was a hum of frantic tension, the techs did not look up at her entrance but the atmosphere eased a little.

Red. It seemed the display was painted in red. Her eyes hazed for a moment before she made sense out of what she was seeing. Kelice was under siege, both on the ground and in the air. The numbers she was seeing was far beyond her expectations. Already, a few towers were out and barriers were breached. Ground troops were engaging the enroaching enemy but it was evident reinforcements were needed.

"Izharia?" said someone behind her. She turned to see the human, Gallia, in armor. "The recruits are ready to move out."

Zelenia nodded, checking incoming updates and orders from T'Annor. "They will be reinforcing sectors B and D. You are in overall command of the field at sector B, updates will be transmitted to you enroute."

"Sir," Gallia saluted.

"Gallia," Zelenia added as the human turned away. "Be careful out there. Bring them back, if you can."

"With my life, Izharia," said Gallia, touched by her concern, saluted again and jogged off quickly. Zelenia watched her go sadly, wishing she could join the troops but her place was behind the lines. How she wished it wasn't so.


	36. Chapter 36

**_Author note - brain half screwed so this is a yap yap yawn chapter. Apologies._  
**

* * *

**Words to note  
**

**DEWPD - distant early warning patrol drones**

**BeaF - beacon frequency**

**LOS - line of sight**

* * *

**Thessia**

Ignoring the flood of reports blossoming on every screen, Zelenia studied the topography of Kelice intently. Something was not right but she could not put a finger on what it was. Instinct told her she had to figure it out and soon. However, the answer elluded her. Knowing the futility of driving at it when there were other immediate concerns, she temporarily shoved the problem aside and appraised the progress of the engagement, the techs updating as fast as each piece of information came through. Beside her, Pesair relayed her orders as quickly as she gave them. The area she was designated to cover was essentially the industrial zone, from processing to arms industries. Essentially and literally the heart of the city. Should either zone in both Kelice and Sharzis suffer significant damage, it would set both cities right back where they first started two years ago.

As such, the facilities were well fortified. It was also where most of the academy commandos were posted, the reason she had Gallia take command of the field in B sector. It should have been Nyrine or Sanr but with both off Thessia, she was pulling up whoever was on hand. Literally all the veterans were sent to contain the advancing TI while several others were heading the recruit companies at the barricades at D sector. Neither defenses would stand up well if the TI pushed extremely hard. Given the manner of their suicidal runs, it was all too likely they would lose both.

Suicide runs. Not a tactic encountered in past skirmishes. To resort to it now meant this current assault was riding on a major TI objective but exactly what was it? Were they running out of food? Was this their all out push to claim Thessia? Or...was it because of that Asari? Her eyes roamed over the holographic display and fixed themselves on groups of local skycars still in operation running and dipping along traffic lanes. Were those city dwellers mad? The city wide alarm had been sounded and given the amount of gunfire going off, anyone in her right mind would have grounded the vehicle by now and run to one of the shelters. Vexed, she reached out to key in the comlink to city control to have those vehicles disabled when a thought struck her.

"When was the first alert given?"

Pesair hurried to consult the logs. "Alarm was first sounded, all sectors perimeter, at 1610. DEWPD signalled incoming enemy vehicles before they were destroyed. Towers 3, 4, 12, 13, 17, 18, 23 and 24 went offline at 1625..."

"Number of enemy vehicles?" Her heart sank. To overrun eight towers in fifteen minutes, the TI must have swarmed them in massive waves. Too many for the Gardian turrets at the perimeter to pick off.

"Unknown, reports stated the numbers were overwhelming...," Pesair faltered when Zelenia bit off an expletive. What was going on?

"On-site recordings!" Leashing on an even tighter rein on the desire to rush off to check for herself, Zelenia waited.

"Yes..yes," with flying fingers, Pesair called up the vid logs that had been in the data dump sent from command earlier and watched it intensely. The vid recorder was mounted on one of the fallen towers and she winced as a sky-enfolding mass seemed to rush up, blotting out the sun. Skycars dropped like flies as the Gardian turrets opened up and still, that mass continued to approach. So many and so chaotic. After several seconds, Zelenia hit the comlink to the command Geth dropship over Kelice as Pesair watched anxiously. What did the Izharia see?

"Prime Xi, I've an urgent request," Zelenia said quickly when the Geth Prime answered. "Can the Geth deploy in the city?"

"Izhario Vantios, diplo...," the Geth Prime began.

"Let me rephrase that," she interrupted tensely. "In light of the current situation, diplomatic stipulation restricting Geth movements within the city are nulled. I take full responsibility," she ignored her assistant's shocked gasp beside her. "I have reason to believe the TI have infiltrated in the attack waves, using skycars primed with local beacons. Source, sympathisers."

The Geth Prime paused for a second. "Probability is high," it examined the readouts at its end. "Our scans show several local vehicles still in operation. We can deploy complement of one dropship but will not be able to cover every group."

"Local enforcement troops," she tried not to wince as she thought of the city cops; how capable were they against the TI? "They will work in conjunction. Thank you," without pause, she switched to the channels for city control and enforcement departments. As she expected, both were in considerable commotion but she was put through to the division chiefs quickly whose reactions predictably bordering on disbelief and panic but neither questioned her orders to move squads to the appropriate locations and to ground all skycars respectively as well as switching all local vehicular identity beacons to another frequency. That done, she sent another update to Prime Xi so that the Geth would have the new markers then contacted T'Annor.

As her immediate subordinate, she ought to have informed her at once to discuss her suspicion and what steps they ought to have taken. Time wasting when they were hard-pressed on all sides, in her opinion. Infiltration was an insidious strike that would only unravel them thoroughly from within the longer they took to debate the validity of the threat. Having worked with T'Annor, she had a good idea which way she would go and this was borne out when the other accepted her report. Harbouring the same misgivings on the city cops, T'Annor moved to send in a few squads to ferret out the infiltrators. The difficulty was that breached sectors were still hotly contested and there was hardly any reinforcements unless they pulled in the civilians. As it was, there was only one other recourse.

* * *

"Do not use your damn glowies till you see the white of their eyes!" shouted Gallia, running along half-crouched behind the barrier as she passed the troops sheltering behind it, clasping boxes of thermal clips, tossing them at the feet of the recruits. Her assistant followed, as similarly burdened. The cacophony of whining shrills, screams and explosions around her from the assault rifles, gun turrets, rockets, vehicular engines almost drowning out her words, even through the helmet. It was a all too familiar din and brought back memories of the Reaper War, except that there was none of that bone chilling thrum through the air and ground or the dark dread of looming alien metal.

"Conserved your strength! I don't want any heroics!" she thumped a recruit on the top of her helmet when she ventured to rise higher to see better. Scenic appreciation was for the foolish in a warzone. "Your noodle's gonna drop fast enough if they reach you, focused on your targets and keep firing!" A chorus answered her over the comlink as she drew near the observation post, her aching arms blessedly empty. The soldier at the observation post moved aside when she climbed up, ducking when hot plasma shots splashed against the shielding. Muttering implecations under her breath, Gallia took stock of the situation as she peered through the viewer, ignoring the heavy thunder of the nearby turret and the thud of an assault rifle.

It was even worst than the assault on the spaceport weeks ago. Then, it was in swells. This was a tsunnami and the only thing keeping the TI back was the murderous hail of fire the defenders were pouring down. Wrecked skycars burned hot below with part of the barrier almost caved in. The result of suicidal dives of the TI, most of which were shot down but two had manged to impact against the wall at the same point. It was also where most of the TI fire and assault was concentrated on. Already, there was a considerable mound of coprses piled below it. Without the reinforcement of the recruits, no doubt, if the attackers managed to get to the barrier, they could just climb over their fallen comrades and overrun the defenses within seconds. Clearing out the corpses was impossible. The only way to do that was to use a few rockets and blast them to pieces. Inwardly, she shuddered at the thought of the resultant gory mess and resolved not to carry it out unless circumstances called for it.

_As long as the clips keep coming, we can hold them back. I think._

Overhead, there were only a few gunships. Something she was thankful for. When she had arrived with the recruits, it was as if the sky was blackened with swarms of insects. Fiery infernos flared as skycar after skycar was shot down. Some had even managed to overfly the barrier but were downed by rocket troopers and Gardian turrets. To come with that many, the TI in the nearest zone had to have thrown everything they had and she did not think they had seen the end of it. The TI outnumbered them a hundred to one. If they were to come all at once, a planet full of TI, both reclaimed cities would not last an hour. Sometimes she wondered that they hadn't done so in the two years. A mystery she often nibbled on with her Asari pals. Kelice and Sharzis were practically sitting ducks so what were they waiting for?

_Wonder if that old hag has anything to do with it. Or maybe half of them are already warped out of mind, the rest are just busy barking up against one another to band._

No matter. So far, none of the recruits had taken a serious hit and she meant to keep it that way. Her helmet comlink pinged, pitched high. A sound she both anticipated and dreaded. Dialling sound buffer to the maximum, she hunkered down behind the shielding to listen. Before long, she popped up again, clapping her assistant, crouched nearby, on the shoulder to get her attention. A few low words and she hit the company comlink. It took several minutes before the squad she called up assembled. Another few words to her assistant who nodded and she set off with the squad for one of the shuttles waiting to remove the injured behind the evac stations. Here, she ran into a different line of fire; reporters and their vid drones. Ignoring the questions flung her way, Gallia jogged through them, the squad right on her heels.

They piled into the nearest shuttle as she went to have a word with the surprised pilot. Within seconds, they were on their way. Braced behind the pilot in the cockpit, she called up the city grid on her omni-tool. No more skycars were active but of those that were minutes ago, had landed in the urban sector. Unless the TI were planning to go on a tour of the shops, restaurants, amphitheatre, gardens, festival plazas and all the little nooks and corners of the city, there was only one place they could be heading to. Logical, if they were searching for a particular target. The problem was no one was expecting the party. Zelenia would have sent out a warning but no doubt it was already too late. That was, if the Izahria's suspicion was correct. She was inclined to believe Zelenia. Well, hey, obviously, she had centuries of experience to her own meagre bits of several years.

The pilot set them down outside a restaurant, less than a block away from the medical centre and returned to her post at the front line once they had disembarked. The squad huddled around her, listening attentively as she briefed them. Meeting each soldier's eyes briefly as she spoke, she gauged their mood as one of anticipation. For they were on the offensive. For real. They would experience the hunt and that worried her, unblooded as they were. And that meant they were all too likely to commit the hundred and one mistakes when they caught the scent. If, she corrected mentally as she once more reminded them of their training, feeling like a nagging robot.

"Set omni-tools to active scan...mark," she tabbed her own and stood up. "Eyes too, people. Tech isn't everything. Move out."

The street where they were set down was empty. Silently, they split up, covering opposite sides as they made their way past shops and restaurants. Nothing was seen, only hastily abandoned meals and goods that lay exposed. As it should be. As they approached the end of the street, Gallia halted the group, eyeing several skycars that were parked haphazardly nearby with doors opened. They looked more dingy than usual, inside and out. Faded and more bust up. Within her gut, alarm bells were going off. Around the corner was the gardens, beyond that, the large plaza that fronted the medical centre. After a glance round the corner, she signaled the group to move on. Keeping to the shadows of the trees, they darted through the gardens. That was when they stumbled over the bodies lying scattered on the garden path.

It was a mix; Asari, Humans and Salarians. Though the rest said nothing, she could feel their anger for it was obvious they were gunned down in the back, likely when they were running away. What turned up the fury was that there were two younglings dead as well. Dead kids were a familiar sight. Hell, she had seen plenty of them during the Reaper War, in more ways dying an even uglier death than those before her now. Husks weren't exactly clean killers. But to say was she was inured to the barbarity of the act, that would take eternity.

"Fuck. Stay focused, people. Come one," she said grimly. "Eyes peeled." _Zelenia was damn right. And I'd bet I'm really really not going to like the entrance._

At the perimeter of the gardens, they halted again to flip on the telescopic viewer of their helmets, scrutinising the other end of the plaza. They could see skycars and the ambulances but not a single soul was in sight. One of the soldiers reported smoke trails from the upper floors of the medical centre, reinforcing her suspicion that the TI had indeed attacked. Just as she was debating a flanking advance, a faint rustle behind her back had her rolling sideways, assault rifle out. The squad quickly turned about, weapons at the ready but nothing could be seen. Frowning, she got up cautiously, examining the air. Was that shimmering? Her fingers tensed when the air seemed to change.

"Corporal Gallia?"

"Well shit, that flashlight of yours could use a shiny!" she snapped at the Geth, lowering the rifle. She had been that damn close to pressing the trigger.

"Apologies. We were scouting nearby when we picked up your suit BeaF forwarded by command," the Geth trooper said. "We have determined that TI haved infiltrated the medical centre and have progressed past the base level. We will infiltrate the back while you take the front."

"Do you know if they left sentries behind?" she turned to look at the building across the plaza. Half-crazed the TI might be but she'd bet a month's pay that they did.

"A high probablity. We detect no jamming signal," the Geth trooper cradled its shotgun on its back, bringing up a map with its omni-tool. "Targets likely on alert status. Our scans have revealed two at the entrance lobby."

"There're likely more than two dozen of them, perhaps 30. We found their skycars back at the street," carefully, she noted the positions of the sentries though she doubted they would remain stagnant.

"Noted. We will make our way up from the back and maintain contact on zeta." Without waiting for her reply, the Geth trooper engaged its cloak and vanished. The quick thuds indicated it had taken off at a run. "Alright," she motioned to others. "You and you," she pointed to two of her squad, Ailia and Raezios, who specialised in infiltration, "get across the plaza and to that lobby. I don't care what you see on the way there. Keep your head, your job is to relay their positions. I don't have to remind you not to jiggle in the hot zone?" she glared at the two whose performance had been on the average. If they could rein in that stupid tendency to jump the gun, they would go far. "Slow and easy, got that? One dumb move and it's not just you, others are gonna suffer. This is not a game."

The two Asari nodded solemnly. There was none of that eager elation she had seen in their eyes during training, only earnestness. Satisfied, she jerked her head in the direction of the plaza. Without further ado, they vanished. Snapping her fingers, Gallia sent the rest back to watch the perimeter and took up a spot directly opposite the entrance of the medical centre. While they waited, she brought up the floor plan of the medical centre. How would the TI advance through each floor? Would they stay together or split up into smaller groups? Would they meet any resistance? Given that the security guards were armed only with pistols, how long could they hold out?

Her helmet comlink buzzed. "Delta4, Ailia."

"Delta1. Go."

"Spotted two. One at lift doors, the other at reception counter. Medium armor. Clear LOS. No one else." Her display of the groundfloor plan lit up with two red dots and two green. Those two buttheads were mere metres away from their respective targets. Lovely, if they were spotted, their asses were cooked.

"Loadouts?"

"Rifles, pistols, grenades."

"Delta6, Reazios. Rocket launchers, unknown package." That didn't sound good.

"Clear, target two. Confirmed."

After several minutes, the clarification came. Telling the two to hold, she signalled the rest to advance on the double, taking a chance the rest of the TI were too busy looking for their target and running into resistance to take a view from the upper floors. Running across that large empty plaza made her skin crawl; she couldn't help thinking something would come out of the air to take her head off. They could have taken the longer route that provide better cover; the gardens did extend to the medical centre along the flanks but she didn't think they had the luxury of time. Murmuring into her comlink, they slowed as they approached the broad steps to the entrance. Crouching low, they darted to the cover of the skycars and ambulances.

"Focused, people," Gallia muttered, even as her eyes roamed over the bloody carnage; corpses, scattered medkits and overturned trolleys and trays. Incoming medical cases were usually taken to the emergency bay. If these people were here, that meant the casualty load must have been overwhleming that they had been directed to use the front entrance. "Delta 4 and 6, are the two still there?" she checked her omni-tool again and the two red dots flashed in affirmation. "Take them out." She waited, trying not to count the seconds. A minute later, she received the all clear. Seconds thereafter, she was looking down at the rocket launchers and package Reazios had spotted, stacked at the counter. The body of a TI soldier lay next to them, shot at point blank range, she noted. Although the package was small, she took no chances. A thorough scan revealed no dangerous materials but she had the rest backed out of the way while she opened it and pulled something out.

"What the...?" her eyes met those of Ailia's who looked as befuddled as her. "They plan to hold a fancy dress party or something?" she tossed down the robes. She was expecting mines or something that equate a big bang, not clothes. Talk about warped minds. "We're time wasting, up the stairs to the research wing. Reazios, take point."

"Shouldn't we check out the rest of this level, sir?" queried Ailia in puzzlement.

"I've an idea where they're heading, three floors up, the labs," Gallia didn't bother to explain, it would take too long. Besides, the clothes only confirmed her suspicion. It was scrappy, but she couldn't help it. Her Alliance CO would have torn the strips off her if he knew how she was carrying out this operation but the complex was too large and she had only a small team of nine. The Geth had probably the same number as not all of the dropship's complement were at the medical centre. The rest were off investigating other suspicious skycar landings in other parts of the city. To cover every floor, every inch would take too long. By the time they scoured every microbe, all they would turn up would be corpses.

"Hold positions." Opening a channel to command, she updated their status before switching over to zeta to check with the Geth. Nor surprisingly, they had already entered the complex, there was no TI where they were but they could hear gunfire a few floors up, incidentally, the section she was planning to head for. There were no questions about her plan to proceed to the labs, only that they would move accordingly at the other end. "Alright, move out," she waved at the rest, bringing up the rear herself.

At the next floor, a check at either end of the corridor revealed no TI, except more bodies. They continued up to the next level, hearing distant gunfire. Another check along the corridor again failed to reveal their foes so they ascended to the next level and crept along the corridor. Gallia knew she was right. The research level had the most number of security scanners and these were shot out. A hiss of caution from Reizos who had gone down the corridor on the right froze them. Before she could inquire an update, a shot was heard. It sounded too close for comfort.

"Report!"

"Delta6, Reazios. All clear."

All clear? What the fuck? Cautiously, she made her way down the corridor to the large reception lounge and sent the others to cover the main corridor and exits before making her way to Reazios who was crouched behind a divan, seemingly to be speaking to someone. That someone turned out to be a young Asari nurse, upper body drenched in blood. The body of a TI soldier lay nearby.

"Damn it, why didn't you get some medigel on her?!" rasped Gallia, frantically reaching for the medpatch on her belt.

"No, not her fault. It's too late..," the wounded Asari reached out weakly to stop her before dropping her arm.

"Look, there's...," began Gallia, who saw the blood had come from an injury on her shoulder. A flesh wound. If the blood loss could be stemmed, she would survive.

"Not like this, not what she has taken..," she said brokenly. "...thank you," the last words she directed to Reazios before she closed her eyes and ceased breathing.

"What...," disbelievingly, Gallia reached out but Reazios stopped her.

"She's gone. Medigel will not help, it may heal the body but not...," Reazios shook her head. "I'm sorry, sir but the TI was doing the forbidden to her. I cannot wait."

"What the..." There it was again. Forbidden. It was a subject she had brought up after the incident with Sanar who had dodged the question. Neither were her Asari pals, Pulchia and Nervia, any more helpful. Both had clammed up and looked...angry and ashame. Definitely a touchy and restricted topic. So she tried a search on the xtranet and turned up a blank. "What the fuck is this forbidden whatever I keep hearing about?"

"You don't know, sir?"

"Would I be asking if I knew?!"

"I'm sorry I brought it up sir."

"Don't tell me you're sorry. Explain!"

"I can't..sir," Reazios said apologetically, meeting her frustrated glare unflinchingly.

"Of all the..." Knowing better than to press her under such circumstances, Gallia jerked her head in the direction of the main corridor leading into the other wing of the floor. A look of relief on her face, Reazios moved off. Following several paces behind, Gallia gestured to the rest to do the same. If none of the younger Asari were willing to spill the beans, she would buttonhole one of the older ones.

_Yeah, and how'd you shake it out of Zelenia, huh?_

The sound of gunfire was louder when they reached the wide opened doors that led to the next wing comprising different departments and facilities. The chances of the more TI troops scattered around was high. Splitting up the squad into threes, she sent the other two to clear out the two flanking row of rooms.

"Slow and easy, nobody shoots until I say so. Of course, don't just wait if you see them sending one your way," she murmured into the comlink as she moved with her team into the main corridor. Now and then, she bent to check the sprawled and twisted bodies, medical staff and security guards, that lay scattered here and there. Hoping there would be some alive but the TI were too thorough. Damn them. It looked as if they had searched the bodies too. Probably looking for information. A buzz over the comlink. The other teams had spotted TI soldiers.

"How many? What're they doing?"

"Three at the tech labs. They seem to be downloading data."

"Delta6, Wylia. I've two here at the small cafeteria, packing up the food."

Crap. She hoped none of the bits about the Prothean scrambler was sitting in the computer terminals. Information about the device was not released to the public and known only among researchers and the top brass. If the TI knew about it, all hell would break lose. The assault they were getting now would seem like a love tap. Three and two, that made five.

"Get a bead on them and take them down. With that much gunfire going off nearby, their pals are not going to notice." She crossed her fingers. Muffled booms went off behind the walls. Then, confirmation the targets were down. Right, that made seven, how many left? Her comlink crackled again.

"Zeta here. We have linked up with the survivors at the lab holding cells. Confirmed six targets down on the way up."

That made thirteen. Lucky number? "How many are penning them in?"

"We see a dozen."

"Evacuate the survivors. We're going to hem them in from our side."

"In progress. Survivors are proceeding down the stairwell."

Her tension eased. So far, so good. She had lost no one in the squad. Of course the TI infiltrators weren't expecting anyone to discover their presence in the city so soon. Perhaps they thought they could get to their target fast enough to get out long before any troops show up. Too bad things weren't going right for them. With the Geth adding their firepower on the other side, they could wrap up the intruders neatly. Telling the other teams to flank them, she waved her team to advance. They reached the exit doors which were blasted opened. The sound of gunfire was thunderous. Reazios went through and reported a small group of TI soldiers bunched up at the entrance to the lab holding cells.

"Five of them. Can't get past them but I think there are more in the room."

"Don't try. They can't get anywhere with the Geth at the other end." Gallia crept forward into the corridor beyond and down another to reach Reazios's position. Her omni-tool map displayed the five, grouped up. And the dozen the Geth had spotted lit up in the the lab. Her third team was behind the five, their route having lead them to an exit that was right on their six. She wouldn't need them. A grenade would clear out that bunch. She had the third team backed away from the exit even as she pulled a grenade from her belt. A word of warning to the Geth, a quick look round the corner even as she pressed down on the pin and pitched the grenade down the corridor at the bunch before ducking back out of sight. She doubted they even knew she was there, they were busy firing into the lab. The boom that went off was shockingly loud. One which would alert those within that they were surrounded.

Gallia grabbed hold of Reazios as she made to proceed. "I didn't say to move, soldier," she peered round the corner again, something bounced out and she ducked back. Another boom went off. Followed by three more. "I guess they're mad." A hail of fire peppered the exit door of the room the third team was in. "Very mad."

"Zeta. They're distracted, moving in."

"Teams two and three, hold."

Gallia looked at her team, held up her fingers, counting down silently even as more gunfire went off. At five, she charged round the corner with them and took up positions at the door, ignoring the broken bloody parts they were almost standing on. It was easy to spot the TI, hunkered down behind overturned desks and consoles. Easy targets with them facing the other way to counter incoming fire. It was all over within five minutes.

"The holding cells are not breached," said the Geth trooper who met her in the passage as she investigated the cells, worried that some of the TI that the researchers were holding had been released. A few were empty but those that were occupied, their residents were apparently not too happy, judging by their furious pounding at the windows.

"I guess we were too fast for them. I tally the number we downed at 26."

"Conclude there are more," the Geth trooper nodded. "We are deploying around the perimeter. Our dropships will arrive to provide backup and we will conduct floor by floor searches. The assault on Kelice is abating."

"It is?" Gallia clapped a hand to her head, realising she had been tardy in one respect; failure to update command. Zelenia must be climbing the walls by now. With the TI forces withdrawing, there was no urgent need for the squad to return to the company. Zelenia issued orders that they were to help in clearing out the complex. Relieved, Gallia had the squad assembled and went back down to the ground floor where they found the survivors milling anxiously about, watched over by a couple of Geth. These were mostly lab techs and security guards who had fought back against the intruders. Several were nursing injuries. Since they were yet to be cleared, she had half the squad escort them to the gardens across the plaza. The better to get them away from the scene of the carnage at the entrance. At least the gardens provided some form of cover to block out the corpses.

As she was about to order the rest to follow her, she spotted an Asari at the lobby who had been crouched behind the reception counter, examining the clothes she had found in the package. Now why was she so interested in them? Telling the rest to wait, she loped over to the Asari.

"I'm sorry, but those are evidence," she said once she reached her.

"My apologies," said the other, carefully dropping the robes back into the box.

"Do they mean something?"

"Perhaps," said the other evasively as she stood up. "I'm Telienos, thank you for saving the lives of my staff."

"Telienos?" Her luck without having to run up and down inquiring about her. It was her lucky day. Of sorts. "The Izharia Zelenia was inquiring after you."

"Ahh, as she would," Telienos nodded. "You will be clearing out the complex with the Geth."

It was more of a statement than a question. "Yes, I don't think we got all of them."

"I understand. I will wait with my staff...?"

"I sent them across to the gardens...," Gallia turned to point. Just as she did so, she spotted the TI soldier standing at the lifts. Instinct took over and she dove for Telienos.


	37. Chapter 37

**Author note : RL went cranky, I missed out a chapter last week. It's still cranky this week so I can't say my brains are still there.**

* * *

**Ilos**

"There is no data available."

Incomprehensible. Kedar regarded Vigil impatiently, wondering if there was yet another way to wrangle an answer. No matter how he phrased it, even using theorems, still he drew up a blank in his endeavor to ferret out even a scrap of figure on the numerous enterprises the Protheans must have been working on. Ilos was their main research centre! Twelve survivors would have limitations, true, but not before the catastrophic event that struck Ilos. Such visions he had of the multitudes of scientists and technicians. A planet full of intelligent and great minds working towards a common goal; weapons to use against the Reapers, enhancements for their own troops. The wealth of knowledge he could plumb and yet, this VI claimed there was none to be had!

Agitatedly, he paced back and forth as Vigil looked on impassively. At the moment, he was alone. That would change soon in the next five minutes. With the resurrection of the Ilos VI and archives, the Citadel Council had seen fit to send a a coalition of researchers, archeologists, accompanied by an equal proportion of garrison guards, workers and warships to safe guard the place. For the past weeks, the bunker had been reinforced, more pefabs dwellings were set up at various emergency egress of the bunker to accomodate the influx of personnel. However, more researchers meant competition to access the archives as not all of them worked in the same scientific disciplines. As such, they had arranged a schedule among themselves and he had spent most of his alotted time trying to find a breakthrough. This was his third attempt in so many days.

Failure was not what he anticipated and he suspected that it had nothing to do with his questions or the lack of data. It was there, he was sure of it. The only explanation he could come up with was that it had been cut off. Vigil was no A.I. No, the door was slammed shut by someone else and throughout the entire journey down into the Prothean Archives, the way they had bypassed the ancient security grids, the responses Vigil had accorded to this person, she was the one who could have done it; Shepard. There were no other possibilties except her. How and by whatever means she had eased past the obstacles, he had fervently sought to know but the human had brushed it off as preparation from that Prothean Javik. Again. Close friends they were not but surely he had earned himself a place in her regard?

Alteration on the scrambler was near completion. Progress was too slow. Given a choice, he would have opted to test the original scrambler on Sur'Kesh the moment Vigil had handed over the schematics but he knew his views held no sway in the philosophical attitudes of his peers and the Council. Benevolence was wasted on unappreciative subjects who would not have thought twice were the device meant to kill their enemies. His major anxiety, however, was the device. Would it work? If it did not, they were back to their original predicament.

A sound brought him around. His time was up. He nodded amicably to his colleagues; humans, Turians, Volus and a Hanar, as he walked briskly past them. A few of the humans turned, as if intending to engage him in conversation but he continued on to the lift. There was little point in exchanges when he had nothing to provide. On the lift, he watched them as they gathered at the terminals around the floor platform, their enthusiasm to learn more about Prothean evolution and culture glaringly bright. There had been no complaints from them about unattainable data. No reason that line of information would be shut off and that rankled. What was cultural history to advance technologies? Would history help any of them stamp out the TI or future menace? History could wait, the TI would not.

Suspect he could but he had to clarify with Shepard that she had indeed, placed the lock. If she did, he would have to present his arguments to her. Of which, he was confident she would see they were valid. However, if she was not the cause, then was no one else but Vigil. If so, how was he to circumvent the program? All through his journey back to main base, he poked and turned the problem round and round. So preoccupied that he did not notice the tension at the lab. Back at his workstation, he checked his console for messages. He blinked at a particular email and dumped it, upset. It was not the time to consider reproduction negotiations! Foolishness when females and hatcheries were by no means, secure. Contention might have been thinned but by no means did his lineage present advantageous leverage to be shortlisted either. A fact he had no wish to languish in.

"Have you heard?"

He didn't turn a horn at the abrupt intrusion of his colleague's voice. "Busy, I am," he switched to another message box quickly.

"There was a massive assault on Thessia. On the two cities. Hundreds of casualties!"

"What?"

"Straighten those horns, the archives aren't everything. It's there in the news bulletin," as abruptly as he appeared, his colleague vanished.

Eyes crinkled, he brought up the xtranet and saw at once what his colleague meant. Hard to miss when the articles were blazoned in red and highlighted. His anxiety increased tenfold as he read. Having lived on Thessia for the past year, he had an idea of just how bad it must have been. The Asari would have called in every allied troops, including the Geth, to push back this assault. The largest by far, if the reports were true. Judging from the vids, they were. The scale was unprecedented! Why? Why?

Switching off his console, he had to forcibly restrained himself from pacing. Military intelligence on the TI had been abysmal. All they had were estimates of such and such without hard data. Even with the lack, individual Allied powers had been able to deal with the surging aggression from the TI who had thus far, engaged in small numbers and involved themselves with hit and run attacks and sabotages. This recent assault brought up the fears he had been harbouring. One he was sure was shared by many. The reason behind this recent incursion was of no matter. That the TI were able to amass in such numbers and with such weaponry and materials, was. What was to prevent a similar occurrance on Sur'Kesh? Already, several hatcheries were attacked and precious broods were lost. The next generation of Salarians would not be born were this to continue.

No, it would not come about. He stood up and made for the canteen a floor below the lab. At this time, Module would be with the humans. It had chosen to schedule its own "rest" period to coincide with those of the humans, usually at meal times. To fraternize of course. Whether it was out of true curiosity or latent intrigue, Kedar could only guess but he hadn't placed much trust in it and had restricted his association to the bare minimum. Geth were an unknown developing intelligence to be wary of. Given their immortality and technological strengths, all the more to keep them at arm's length. Even so, they had their uses and he had such a purpose right then.

As per his expectations, Module was listening as a group of humans sat at the canteen table; deep in conversation, forming one side of the group. How best to get it away? He dithered for a moment before he realized the nature of his intent was the cause of his hesitation. Thereupon, he approached with his usual briskness and was able to whisk the Geth Prime away with the plea that he needed to discuss a problem concerning the project. Not in itself an outright lie. Back up they went until he was seated at his workstation, the Geth Prime folded itself beside him. A small act of courtesy that he could appreciate.

Though there was no one nearby, he pitched his voice low. "Heard, attack on Thessia?"

"News spreads."

"Incompletion, current project, other ways to deal with TI."

The flaps around the "eye" lifted. "You have ideas."

"Truly," Kedar nodded quickly. "Urgent. Threat is paramount, all. Should they band, larger forces, larger losses. Project may fail, original programming, not work. Other ways."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Possibilities, much technological information held within archives. May help TI threat remove. Vigil incooperative," he paused for a moment.

Module said nothing. Kedar wished there was some way to look into the thought processes of a Geth. The platforms Geth inhabit gave absolutely no clue as to what they think or how they may react. In that, they were just as dispassionate as the Elcor who tried to make up for it by stating exactly what they meant when they speak. He had the impression though, the Geth Prime did not hold him as high a regard as it would the humans. But that was of course, his imagination.

He continued. "Information withheld, suspect lockdown by Shepard. Searching archives..."

"It is not possible," Module interrupted flatly.

Kedar stared at it in astonishment. "But I've not..," he protested. To be rejected outright when he had not even stated his proposal?

"Have you not considered the rationale behind the restrictions? Whether Vigil is obeying a directive from Shepard or no, you intend to circumvent the block by asking me to infiltrate the mainframe," Module stated baldly, flaps rising while Kedar looked anxiously at the other researchers nearby. "Irregardless of the mores behind your objectives, you are in conflict with the Council's vested interest in compromise and cooperation."

"Vested interest?" Kedar fought to keep his voice down, pricked by the censure. "Interest is TI removal. Theirs, mine, all. In conflict, not I."

"Then apply through proper channels. The decision to pursue such a course is not without merit but a lone illegal attempt is fraught with many pitfalls and may not achieved the desired end."

"Talking much, to humans," snapped Kedar, feeling out of his depth. The Geth Prime's statements were too profound, in his opinion.

"They offer much, as do others," said Module as it unfolded itself and walked away, leaving Kedar to fume and wonder what he ought best to do.

* * *

**Local Cluster, Earth, Citadel**

There was no getting away from it. Whichever way she walked or turned, screens and terminals were blaring the news, heated colloquies at every corner seethed with tension and fear. These from those who had yet to claim the majority of their homeworld. The humans were more guarded and less doubtful. In that, they owe the fact that they could speak with less fear and more confidence to one man who had the foresight and will to force the purge on Earth.

Sitting there in the departure lounge, eyes closed, she could taste the tang of those emotions that echoed within herself. Long had she withheld the fear that her people would lose their home. Now, that fear perched at the edge, ready to spring into reality should this trip failed to bring resolution. A voice broke into her reverie.

"Do not immerse too long in the darker currents, Little Wing. It does the little one no good."

Opening her eyes, Liara reached out to take the hand Aethyta proffered. Hand in hand, they strolled slowly, heads bent close to each other as a couple of Asari commandos lagged watchfully behind.

"The waves are reflections," Liara sighed as they passed yet another group of Asari, deep in conversation, "of the tempest that could sweep us all away. How can I not feel it?"

"Nor I," admitted Aethyta as they halted near the entrance to the airlock of the walkway to her ship. "Whether Thessia will survive as a whole or broken, we will know in the next few days."

"I wish I could do something more," Liara said helplessly, wishing she could halt the cold that seemed to permeate her entire body.

Gently, Aethyta lifted her chin with her fingers, looking into eyes swimming with worry. "You already have. Keep in mind, child. Were you to carry every single stone along the path all at once, you would get nothing done," she hugged her tightly. "Keep yourself safe."

"You too, dad," Liara tried to keep the trembling out of her voice, planting a soft kiss on Aethyta's cheek, pulling up a smile when Aethyta wagged an admonishing finger before turning to the entrance and kept it there as she watched her vanished behind the hatch with her commandos. She leaned against the railing of the view deck, squinting against the various lights glinting off the crowd of vessels around the dock.

There was no reason why the Assembly shouldn't rewrite their policies, given the current state of affairs on Thessia, and yet there was every reason to think they would remain obdurate. Insane as it was. But then, none of their decisions had thus far proven neither prudent nor beneficial. Only calamitous. At times like this, she wished the Shadow Broker network had remained intact. Not that she would have known anything at all about the Aiahcra, that was a secret buried so deep it was unlikely any of her agents would unearth it but she could have called in favors among the Assembly, pulled the vote somehow. Prevent the imminent fallout. Perhaps.

_Really, Liara, that is too naive. It does not really work that way all the time._

A warning klaxon pealed out, long and loud at the berth even as the docking clamps holding the passenger liner retracted. She watched as the ship glided out. It was one of several commercial vessels that ply the shortest route along the major allied homeworlds and colonies, Sur'Kesh, being one of them. From there, Aethyta would retrieve the old matriach and returned to Thessia in her own personal vessel. With this latest assault on Kelice and Sharzis, waiting for the convocation was no longer viable so Aethyta had chosen to leave as soon as possible. Barely hours after the news broke in fact.

_I hope they listen to you, dad._

When the liner could no longer be seen, she checked the chronometer of her omni-tool and debated whether she should hurry to the Asari embassy. By the time she arrived, the meeting would have gone underway and drawing attention to herself, especially from one such as Aria T'Loak, was not on her intinerary. Enabling a small beyboard, she typed in a message and sent it. With time on her hands, she would attend to the cluster of emails building up in her mailbox. Goddess forbid that any of them contain unwelcome news that another crisis was wating to explode elsewhere.

* * *

_I'm not surprise she's not coming._

Closing down her omni-tool, Shepard leaned against the wall of the lift. Tucked in the corner, ignored, she observed the others sharing space with her. The usual mixed bag except that their conversation was subdued; appointments, movie vids, jobs, dinner, so and so and so on. Mundane, ordinary. Deliberately so. Fit for the ears of the little people who had no other concerns except their next lot of simple pleasures. There were more of them than usual on the citadel; a baby boom had blossomed as the galactic community sought once more to assume a normal semblance of life, as most believed the tight security measures in place on the space station were better than those on the homeworlds. Asari particularly.

_Not that I blame them. In their place, I'd probably rather be elsewhere than Thessia._

A smile twitched her lips as a cherub blue little face, crests barely nubs on her head, blinked sleepily at her over her mother's shoulder. She wondered what shade hers and Liara's would turn out in. Maybe the same as Liara, with a tinge of purple? Indigo? Iris? With cobalt blue eyes? Green? Come to think of it, neither she nor Liara had decided on names yet though they had run through several. She had a feeling that would be the last detail they would attend to, given the waves of tumult they had to deal with.

The space around her fluxed as the lift emptied and filled at every level. Getting off at the embassy floor, she made her way to the Asari offices, noting the new Elcor, Volus, Hanar, Krogan, Geth and Quarian annexes. There would have been a Raloi office too, when the Council had officially welcomed them to the galactic community years ago but since they had chosen not to be involved in the Reaper War and destroyed all their satellites and observation equipment around their homeworld, no one had bothered to inform them the war was over. Leave them in their playground, was the general consensus. As for the Vorcha, there was no offices. Too primitive and aggressive to get along with anyone though most would be surprised to learn there was a Vorcha representative present, ancillary to the Asari, who usually dealt with issues pertaining to the small clan of Vorcha who had been raised by the Asari with a more gentle outlook than their peers on Heshtok. Last and not least, was the Rachni representative who had chosen to share an office with the Asari than to publicly assume one.

Jamming her hands in the pockets of her hoodie, she made her way to the Asari offices where the receptionist took one look at her when she strolled in through the door and immediately hastened to show her to Tevos's office before a single word passed her lips. The staff looked hassled and she doubted it had anything to do with the queue of applicants they had to deal with. Surprisingly, the veritable pirate queen was not lounging on any of the seats in Tevos's office when she walked in.

"Shepard, glad you could make it," Tevos stood up, gesturing to one of the seats before her desk.

"I try not to miss out my appointments," Shepard relaxed into the chair, interlacing her fingers on her lap.

Tevos made to reply but Aria beat her to it. "As well you should, you'd never know what opportunities might arise," she said, without turning from her vantage point at the window.

"I'm sure you have a few good pointers to share," Shepard exchanged a glance with Tevos who sat back down; she would play no part in the dialogue. Unless she was needed. But on whose side, was the question. Given Tevos's record, no doubt she would try to maintain parity.

"I always do." Turning around, Aria sauntered to the chair next to Shepard, dropping into it gracefully. Dressed as usual in a suit and short jacket, she looked impeccable and confident. "When the rare occasion calls for it and only when it's mutually benefitting."

"I guess this is a special then," Shepard said patiently before adding. "Why Omega?"

"Why the Citdael?" Crossing her legs, Aria leaned back in her chair, lifting a fine arched "brow".

"That much of an altruism, I find hard to believe," Shepard said evenly.

"Everyone has a place. If they can't find one, they make one. By any means. Especially more so for those outside the boundary whose charter is one of ravaging and profit. Left to their own devices, would they have remained endemic?" Aria's eyes narrowed a fraction. "I merely direct their energies to more controlled and effective applications."

"Be that as it may," Shepard was sure there was more to it but decided not to pursue that thread for the moment. "Again, why Omega? The station and the populance have been under Cerberus's manipulation for the past four years, the situation within has to be adversely against any form of rehabilitation."

"The same can be said of the Allied homeworlds. Of Thessia," a hard glint lit in Aria's eyes. Frosty and yet a hint of regret that sparked a depth of curiosity in Shepard. Not that Aria would answer were she to ask about her life on Thessia, but she had to wonder about her background. "And yet, no one has relinquished hopes of retaking their homes. Is it any different for those who called Omega home?"

"So you chose to manifest their pleas."

"Would they have been given notice otherwise? Can anyone deny they had given equal blood and flesh in the war?" Aria leant forward. "Think of this as an investment," she said persuasively.

That was certainly artful but Shepard had to concede her arguments were valid. Not that she was going to say so aloud. "Perhaps you could recap exactly how Cerberus managed to get hold of the space station." That would certainly rub Aria on a sore spot; she had been rather reticent about it, other than to say she had been outsmarted by TIM and vowing vengence. She might be stepping on her toes but if she wanted her pound of flesh, Shepard would prefer to know exactly what went on back then.

Lips thinned, Aria regarded her for a moment. "What is that human saying. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?" she snorted disdainfully. "We had a few dealings so I chose to allow them to use Omega as a supply depot for their research bases beyond the Omega 4 Relay. One of their many experiments came knocking and began to infest the station. It was only one shuttle then but many more began to turn up. Cerberus sent their own to "help" and I went off station with the Cerberus commander to destroy the source of the infestation. In my absence, Cerberus agents took control of the station and I escaped from the research bases to rally my forces."

Shepard could very guess why Aria had to escape. TIM would be foolish in not chilling out a formidable opponent. "And?" she said when the pirate queen remained silent.

"I chose to end the conflict when Cerberus threatened to reduce the station to rubble with their fleet."

How that must have rankled. "Exactly what is this infestation?" she was more interested in that. She had a feeling it was something no one in the Alliance had encountered before.

"Cerebrus's lab experiments, using Reaper technology. They are called Adjutants and they have but a single goal; to produce more of themselves. A bite, a scratch," a nasty smile twisted her lips as she spread a long nailed hand, "and the victim is infected immediately, transforming into the lifeform. The mature form takes longer to kill but the altered victim is more vulnerable. The best way to kill either of them is to remove their heads."

"Given what you have told me, what's to stop Cerebrus from unleashing this mutant on the Omega populance?" Shepard said gravely even as she pushed away images of the horrors the captive residents would have faced had TIM indeed unleashed his warped pets.

"None," Aria shrugged and settled back into her chair, regarding her watchfully. For a moment, they stared at each other.

Returning the gaze steadily, Shepard finally said, "What do you want?"

"A place to stand amid the chaos," Aria said simply. "The retaking of Omega would see a number of casualties none would find acceptable. The consequences of such a venture negates any benefits. That is why I only ask for you. You may be one but behind you, I see many."

"And how do you intend to retake Omega?" Shepard was sure Aria wouldn't have come this far without a plan.

Aria looked to Tevos who had been silent all the while. Reaching for the keys on her desk, Tevos activated a vid projector. A picture of Omega materialised.

"After the demise of their esteemed leader," a cold pleased smile flashed across Aria's face, "Cerberus had continued their supply runs to and from the Omega 4 Relay. Traffic from other systems," her brow lifted at that bit of titbit she deliberately let slipped, "was also observed to dock with the station regularly. I sent in a infiltration team a few months after establishing my own platform to launch a comprehensive investigation. They had hardly cycled past the airlock before they were completely wiped out."

Shepard watched keenly as the vid split into two, one showed a feed from one of the mercenaries who was standing at the airlock of his ship. "Where did you send them?"

"The Warrens. Located at the bottom," Aria pointed to the location. "If there were any survivors, the slums offered the best defenses."

"You said had. Did they stop the supply runs?" Shepard continued to watch as the hatch of the airlock slide aside.

"It became erratic..."

"What the hell is that?!" interrupted Shepard, for just as the mercenary's helmet sensor adjusted to the dim interiors, various shadows flashed out. The vid jiggled, spun crazily before blanking out but not before splatters of liquid completely covered the helmet.

"That is for you to find out," Aria pulled out a datapod from the pocket of her jacket and tossed it to Shepard who fielded it quickly before it could land on the floor. "Every vid from all of them, including records of Cerberus movements your Admiral Hackett was asking for."

"I have not said I would do it."

"Sooner or later, Omega becomes eveyone's problem. I am offering a few solutions before the issue becomes an embarassment for you."

A pox on Cerberus! Biting back a sigh, Shepard regarded the datapod in her hand. "What is your solution?"

"Return Omega to its origins."

"Origins?" Shepard frowned. Certainly, Aria was not suggesting destruction. "Didn't it start out as a Prothean mining station?"

"True, " Aria nodded. "But the Protheans were not able to break through the crust and abandoned it. It wasn't until a collision broke the asteriod in half, exposing the trove of eezo, that Asari coporations turned it into a profitable mining facility. When all the eezo were gone, it was abandoned and later used by outlaws as a haven. The central infrastructure is solid and suitable for additional construction. This was taken advantage of through the centuries. Layers and layers were added. Giving form to the facade you see now. I would see those layers stripped away," she pointed to another location. "Each layer is interlocked and can be removed at Omega Control."

The enormity of what she was suggesting took Shepard's breath away. A glance at Tevos who looked just as stun. Plainly, she was not privy to the pirate queen's plans. Removing each layer meant snuffing out the lives of those who lived in that zone. Aria was essentially telling her to kill the entire population of Omega. But then, entire populations of what?

"Drastic," she said, "and certainly not acceptable."

"Are you sure?" As if tired, Aria stood up and strolled to the window. "For four years, Cerberus had free rein of the station. What do you suppose was happening during that time? Need I mention Sanctuary? The Adjutants? The "reformed" Cerberus troops? I suggest you look beyond the ethics and consider the ramifications should Cerberus unleash millions of their thralls upon us."

"But you have no idea if they have such numbers," countered Shepard, "or if they had converted that many."

"Didn't I say solutions?" Aria cast a withering look over her shoulder. "I am proposing the most dire line of defense, the least anyone wants to hear."

"What then, are the others?" Tevos queried.

"It is enough," turning around, Aria leaned against the window behind her, crossing her arms. "Whichever way presents its course, the annihilation of Cerberus remains paramount," she eyed Shepard keenly and seemed pleased when she nodded.

"I will have an answer for you in the next few days," Shepard stood up. "T'Loak, Councilor," she said before leaving the room.

For a while, neither Asari said anything. Tevos studied the vids minutely but could not make out what were the shadows. It was too dark. She looked over at Aria who was looking out of the window. Such had been her habit, as far as she remembered, when she had spoken candidly of her thoughts. Such moments were long gone, swallowed up in the passage of time. Hesitating for a moment, she approached her softly, not certain it was wise to be anywhere a metre near her. Through the centuries, they had minimum contact. Next to none really. When she realised Aria was on the Citadel during the war, she had maintained her distance, even through the exchanges leading up to this meeting with Shepard. But she couldn't help but be curious about the present Aria. How was she different from the one she remembered?

"Is Omega really such a good place to stand?" she muttered, gazing out the window herself. Skycars flew to and fro busily, light glinting in the artificial sunlight. Soft blues and greens carpeted beyond and below.

"Is Thessia any better?" Aria heaved a sigh. "If Aethyta fails, there must be alternatives. Somewhere for whoever is left to make their stance or they are all truly lost."

"Your alternative will not flower for months yet," pointed out Tevos, shifting minutely away, disturbed to find even after centuries, the impact of Aria's aura had not lost its allure. Going near was a mistake.

"Really, Arois, that short-sighted?" chided Aria. "That is unlike you. However long it takes, it's foolishness to ignore the opportunity of a new slate."

"And what would you write upon it?" Stilling the flash of memory at that pet name, Tevos turned away, intending to return to her desk. When Aria didn't answer, she glanced over and was startled to find her regarding her with a light in her dark eyes that was all too familiar. She shook her head. "It's been too long, Aria. Not the wisest course..," she broke off when Aria took her hand and the bond that they had denied themselves for centuries flashed into being as if they had never been apart.

"No. Not the wisest," agreed Aria, a smile in her eyes. "Too much pain, too many regrets," she carassed her face. "Do you know how often I think of you?" she chuckled sadly when Tevos shook her head again even as she tried to throw up her barriers against the mind she yearned to merge with again. "Moments to share and there is no one wherever I look."

"Like how you share Liselle?" Tevos could not keep the trace of bitterness out.

"You would say that now. Would you have said it before?" Aria said, without giving voice to the many arguments that had separated them and set them on different paths. "Our time is drawing to a close, Arois, to waste any more in looking back. Would you not share the remainder of what we have with me?"

"I...," refusal rose to the fore but Tevos remembered how lonely she had been; political aspirations made poor companions. "It...," she found she could not articulate the reasons why their relationship would not work.

"Leave it," she drew Tevos closer. "The humans have a saying...seize the moment."

It seemed like yesterday and yet not and she realised why. The touch of Aria's lips was more gentle than she remembered, different. Everything was a startling contrast to the desires of those years; touch, scent and mind. Even as her inner consciousness threw up the disastrous political repercussions of an affair, she ignored them. That silent dormant heart of hers flared to life and she felt the wave of an equal answer. Seize the moment? Yes, she certainly would!


	38. Chapter 38

**Thessia**

_... total Allied casualties at 335, including local and military forces. Civilian casualties are confirmed at 79, the majority mainly those caught in the attack on the medical centre. There is still no official statement on how the TI managed to infiltrate the medical centre or what they intended to do, only that the attack was successfully repelled. With this latest assault, the fiercest to date on Kelice and Sharzis..._

The voice and vid vanished abruptly as a hand hit a key on the chair. Without pausing in her reading, she lifted the cup beside her to her lips. Cool and bitter, the tea slide down her throat. A most suitable flavour that blended well with the swelling and roiling emotions that burned the moment she heard the news and had continued to simmer throughout the journey. How many more were to die for the moribund incumbants? How many more of her friends were she to lose? She flicked the datapad to the seat next to hers, all attempts at trying to read withered to ashes, and looked out of the window. Thessia seemed to glow in space. It looked peaceful, to the naked eye. Until one stepped foot on the ground and find that tranquility was but a fool's vision.

The vidcom on the chair lit up. "Archeina, Matriarch Trisio is on com two," said the pilot whose face was replaced with a hard-eyed Asari.

"You should not have come back," were the first words out of her mouth.

Short and to the point. That's how she liked it. "Is your appetite wheted with the recent servings?" she went on without waiting for Trisio's reply. "What's one more eh? Do so, and you lose the one thing you have been turning the T'Soni estate upside down for and why for the love of the mother, Thessia is heading for the mudplats! Not least, explain away how planetary defense happened to have an imp because believe me, no frippery in the entire sea can hide that sorry ass of yours."

A flush darkened Trisio's face before it faded. "You have her onboard?" the coldness vanished from her eyes. "I...," she hesitated.

"Come to the Hall of Voices with your partisans. You do not want to be not there."

"No! That is not...

Thumbing the off key before Trisio could complete her protest, Aethyta sat back, drumming her fingers on the armrests. She could have added more, laid it out in bare bones but she didn't think they would be that idiotic to assume she was weaving an empty spin. Threats were for the denser intellects which they might well turned out to be. In which case, blooding and bruising Trisio and her band was exactly what she was looking for. A reckoning long coming to them. A blip on her moni-tool alerted her that her next task was coming up.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to look out of the window as the shuttle descended lower. It skirted the spaceport briefly, the pilot carrying out her orders to the letter. The view of the blaze of destruction took her breath away. It was almost as bad as the devastation of the war, then almost everything had been leveled, the landscape in shades of grey, white and black. Nothing had been recognizable. Still, the sight was almost too much to bear; wreckage of skycars lay strewned everywhere, piles of them under the destroyed towers and breached barrier. Tears rose to her eyes when she saw the charred and bloodied corpses outside the barrier and she cursed the Reapers.

The shuttle banked. Fighting had been the heaviest at the breached zone and damaged skycars, gunships, cargocarriers, freight containers still lay about though she could see the process of cleaning up was underway. The destruction would soon be removed but the memory of it would never be expunged. Hovering over it all was a Geth dropship, a visible deterrent for the moment. The spaceport glided by beneath. The city remained relatively untouched, she was glad to note. But then, the attack had been a feint in a bid to infiltrate and remove someone. Not a bid to take over. But the cost to both sides. A price they would continue to pay until Thessia was reclaimed. . She cast her eyes as far as she could see; not a single gunship hoved into view. Trisio, it seemed, was going to behave. The shuttle glided on with no interference.

Looking down, she could see that people were out, not hiding, and was glad. But there were more groups of them than she remembered, gathered around speakers in the parks, gardens and almost at every corner; the tempest was gathering pace. Lifting her eyes, the huge dome that was the Hall of Voices came into sight. Broad spires swirled around the edifice, before tapering and spreading outward in all directions. How it had been consecrated with much optimism two years ago to replace the ancient building that had been leveled in the war. How they had hoped the new edifice would infuse the survivors to greater heights. Now, it was regarded more with loathing for nothing good had come forth of it.

As a rule, no transport of any sort was allowed near the building that was the only visible seat of authority on Thessia. Assembly members and the public had to arrive at the approximate time, park their vehicles hundreds of metres out before the perimeter barrier; no more than a token ring of lights, was removed and everyone would walk to the building. Such form was going to be abandoned, there was no convocation and she was not going to have her commandos lugging their baggage in full view. It wouldn't have mattered much in truth for she'd like nothing more than to blow the entire matter wide opened but she intended to give Trisio and her ilk one last chance to clarify their stance and intentions clearly.

No one was about when the shuttle set down by one of the entrances but far off in the distance, she could see heads turning in her direction. It was doubtful they could see past the huddle of commandos that scurried as fast as they could into the building but they would wonder at the incongruous sight of the shuttle and rumours would spread like fire in the next few minutes. Hitting her omni-tool comlink, she spoke briefly into it even as she passed through the entrance. The doors sealed shut behind her.

"Zelenia," she reached out for the hands of her old friend, waiting with the others in the lobby. "How fare you?" she looked searchingly at her weary face. She didn't look like she had rested at all since the assault for she discerned grime on her uniform.

"I am thankful. The injured troops are going to recover and ...Telienos will be with us a while longer," Zelenia managed a smile, "I spoke to her not just a minute ago. She sent her blessings."

"And Gallia?"

"We hold her in a place of honor and will see to proper arrangements later...we will see an end," she added. It was not a question but a statement.

"An end," Aethyta vowed, looking around at the others who had gathered around them and was satisfied with the determination on their faces.

"An end,' came the murmur before the crowd parted to let her pass and they walked in silence to the doors leading to the hall. The sound of their footsteps were swallowed by that vastness of space. Tiers upon tiers of benches that would have seated thousands rolled up against the wall, encircling the forum in the centre. Looking at those seats, Aethyta wondered if the following days would see them vacant. There was no one about, but them so she waved to the forum benches that were in the exact center of the dome. As the group settled down in their usual placements, the commandos sat down with their guest behind them in the first row audience tier. They waited in silence, each ruminating her own future.

Half an hour went by before there were signs of movements at the far end of the entrance. Aethyta didn't rise as they approached, neither did those behind her. They merely waited. The Asari striding at the forefront of this group paused for a moment. Her eyes narrowed when Aethyta continued to regard her coolly from her seat, her gaze took in that the other half of the forum was filled before freezing at the cowled figure seated between two commandos behind them. Was that fear or awe on that narrow face? Both, Aethyta decided.

"Is she...?" she started forward and halted when Aethyta stood up.

"Indoctrinated," Aethyta nodded to one of the commandos who gently pulled back the hood. A barely perceptible sigh swept through the gathering at the sight of that ancient countenance. "Verififed at Sur'Kesh. You needn't take my word for it, you are free to consult them as you will or run tests of your own."

"Why..?!" began Trisio angrily, taking in the blank cloudy gaze.

"Shrills and diatribes. I've a earful of them in every bar but hers is hardly worth the hearing for the mad sophisms," Aethyta eyed the opposing faction, most of whom were looking surreptitiously at their omni-tools and were disturbed at the evidence that the ancient matriach was clearly not robust in mind and body. "Not least to say, I'd prefer undamaged goods to present my case."

Looking more upset than angry, Trisio said, "She is not materials for anyone to brandish about."

"Then what is she?" Aethyta took a step forward, her gaze boring into Trisio who looked away. "Speak now or lose the right to add your voice," she warned when the other remained silent. "Unless you've been living in the outer reaches, you have to know tolerence is at an end," she turned slowly in a full circle, making a point of catching the eyes of everyone in Trisio's group. "With this latest development, you cannot expect compliance. No more. The voices of the people will take precedence and no one can stop it."

"To speak of it is offense."

"To who? Can it be as catastrophic as the recent assault?" Resisting the urge to shake Trisio when she stared stubbornly at her, Aethyta sighed. "Can it be any more worse than the calamity that will befall Thessia if we continue with current policies? I come here with intentions to avert disaster but it seems you are bent to bring it about."

One of those behind Trisio stirred, murmuring something to her. She turned, muttering something angry in return but a few more spoke up, silencing her for a moment. When she turned back, her face was flushed.

"What I have to say is for the Assembly," she said icily. At that, Aethyta nodded to the two commandos who left their seats immediately and headed out through the entrance, sealing the doors behind them. Two of her own cohort left their own forum seats and took their places, the oblivious matriarch between them.

Returning to her seat, Aethyta sat down. Damn if she would wore herself out listening to what might possibly be a long tale. She'd rather do that comfortably, resting her posterior. Besides, Trisio never liked sharing centre stage with anyone; she loved her own voice too much. "No one but us," she said, amused to find that the rest of Trisio's group also opted to sit down. Significant? Perhaps. There were several unhappy faces among the lot. Were they ready to revolt?

"What I have to say, is privy only to those who are chosen," said Trisio, pausing briefly to let that fact sank in. "In face of the current crisis, that we may all reach concensus, I will share what I know. When the people first rose from the sea, they knew nothing of the land. Survival of the fittest was the creed. Until one day, the goddess Athame appeared to share her wisdom. The people learnt to till the land, gather, build better shelters, make better weapons to hunt, to trade, build affiliations. The people progressed but slowly for the written word was not theirs to grasp as yet. Through memory and spoken words, knowledge was passed on but inevitably, not all was kept intact. To prevent such losses, Athame chose from the people those who were capable and skilled to share the greatest gift bestowed; a way to preserve precious wisdom, experience. Aiahcra," she bowed slightly in the direction of the matriarch, "guardians of memories. With the aid of each generation of these guardians, the people learnt, made progress, evolved to take their place in the stars. To stand at the head of the galactic community. As it should be."

"How were they chosen?" asked someone behind Aethyta who thought there was a nice little touch at the end of the explanation. Nothing like appealing to the ego to sway opinions.

"Each guardian, as she approaches the end of her last cycle, chooses her sucessor who has the best mental competency because of the vast amount of memories she must hold. Each," she held up a hand when the questioner made to voice another, "guardian adds her own unique experience to the whole so that the next can call upon her wisdom as well when she needs it. All of you would have at some point past your third cycle, been called up and tested by your mentors or their peers.."

"That was to find suitable candidates?" said another behind Aethyta, a note of wonder in her voice. Probably recalling such an event in her life.

"They are the ones who dictate policies," put in another, stilling the beginnings of murmurings among the Assembly. Heads turned towards Trisio.

"Who else is more qualified? They have knowledge spanning thousands of years!"

"Are you forgetting the core principles of the Republics?" someone said coldly.

"Are you forgetting they are the ones who have guided the people to ascendency?" countered Trisio. "We would not have risen to where we are if it were not for them. And they do not dictate, they suggested, advised. Two different interpretations.."

"How many are there?" interrupted Aethyta when Trisio seemed ready to launch into another spiel, earning herself a harsh reprimanding glare which was completely wasted on her. She was no youngling in her first cycle to be cowed by facial exercises.

"Six..."

"So where are the other five?" Aethyta cut in again.

"I do not know," Trisio finally admitted after a moment.

"You do not know," Aethyta repeated softly. "But you do know about the one present in this hall." She didn't bother to make it a question. Trisio would have to answer, there was no way she could dodge it.

"Without her, we couldn't have established Kelice or Sharzis."

"How is that possible?" a voice chimed in incredulously even as Aethyta was tempted to applaud Trisio's effort.

"Kinship, affiliations, you may all think these no longer matter to the TI, but they still do. Only their will, self-determination were changed to serve their masters," Trisio gestured at the matriarch, "By drawing on those ties, she diverted the TI's attention to other matters, she bought time for us to gain a foothold..."

"And then what?" Aethyta stood up, eyes fixed on Trisio. "If she had resisted indoctrination, retained her sanity, her first consideration will be for those who suvived the war. I do not think I am wrong to say she would have wanted us to continue to reclaim Thessia. So why..."

"Because we have to retrieve all six guardians. If we had allowed the Geth to carry out widescale cleansing," Trisio looked at her audience, "we may lose the guardians. To prevent such a thing from happening, we would have to reveal their existence to outsiders. The guardians are sacred, just as they protected us with their lives, we must answer in equal fervor or we risked losing the foundations of the Asari. They are our ancestors, our mentors. Are we to abandon them after all they have done for the people?"

Frowns lit the brows of the gathering. Before they could turn to their neighbours to discuss further, Aethyta said aloud, "You know so much because you have been communicating with them." _There, you have to answer._ She thought grimly.

"It was necessary," Trisio glanced around. Except for a few in her own cohort, the rest was shocked. "To determine the location of the guardians. Their abode was in Amali, that was the first place I tried in the search and I was successful in making contact with one of them."

"How long?" said Aethyta as the gathering muttered uneasily.

"What does it matter?" Trisio said evasively. "That I..."

"How long have the TI been given free rein of the cities?" Aethyta bit off each word with clenched teeth, the desire to commit violence was strong. A deathly silence filled the forum. "I do not believe for one instance that the information you gained flow as swift and clear as water," she drove on, giving Trisio no opportunity to speak. "As she gave, the TI took. That is how they have the local beacons for their transports, isn't it? They've been making supply runs under our very noses. You let them in here, you let them in to study the strengths and weakness of our fortifications, our troop deployments. You let them in here so they could study the layout of the cities and make plans for their invasion."

Trisio stood her ground as Aethyta approached menacingly. "No, they were monitored closely, they did not..," she said, not realising she had admitted to something she had resolved to try to keep a lid on and stiffened when it dawned on her the next minute.

"Trisio!" the shout startled them all. Zelenia surged out of her seat and would have gone for her had Aethyta not grabbed hold of her arm. "It's not the TI. It's you. You and your advocates who are responsible for the deaths of the troops, the recruits, the civilians, the people in the outlying villages!" she didn't try to shake off the restraining hand and hissed at Trisio instead.

"How dare you!" shouted Trisio in return. "The TI would have attacked whether or not I allowed them access..."

"You are a fool!" bellowed Zelenia, the volume astounding everyone. It made the dome rang. "By allowing them access, our defences are weakened when they would have withstood the storms. We lost people needlessly. Don't you understand that to rebuild Thessia, we need to eradicate the TI, irregardless of her place? We need the next generation of our young! We should be nurturing them, not throwing them away in battles before they are ready!" she pointed at the old matriarch. "Why are we looking to her? Look at her. She is one of them. You have been played, T'Enaire!"

"No, she was not part of them," Trisio clenched her jaw stubbornly. "You are the fool for you see nothing but war and death."

"Let me speak," Aethyta whispered, gripping Zelenia's arm harder when she felt that warming field of gathering biotic energies. "You, of them all, cannot break the laws laid within this hall. Zel, we need you to guide the troops, not sitting in a cell," she added and breathed a sigh of relief when Zelenia's skin cooled. Without a word, Zelenia returned to her seat. Was that disappointment in Trisio's eyes? Aethyta wouldn't have put it past her not to try to provoke someone, not necessarily Zelenia, into a rash act. It would be a good excuse to divert the entire proceedings and buy her the delay she was evidently looking for. But even if Zelenia or whoever was the scapegoat imprisoned, should the dissolution come to pass, all judicial edicts were nulled and she would have to go to the extra hassle of prying them out. A pain in the butt, in her opinion.

"Let me repeat, she was not part of them," Trisio picked up where she had left off, ignoring the palpable waves of anger from the other side of the forum. "For two years, we were able to rebuild, revive broken infrastructures and trade. In that time, we were vulnerable yet the TI did not attack us with their overwhelming numbers. Why? Where were they? What were they doing? I say again, the guardians were the reason for their distraction. We must find the others. When the guardians return to guide us, how can we fail to recover our home?"

Incredible. After all that had happened, Trisio expected support in her ruinous venture? "Do you really think they are capable of resisting the Reapers for so long?" said Aethyta. "That one has succumbed or are you denying the results of your scanner?"

"The guardians are not like us. They have abilities none of us can understand because we are not trained in them. Knowledge and wisdom from ages past. We have lost so many of our elders, we mustn't lost any more," Trisio implored, hands held in supplication to the gathering. "With their aid, Thessia can rise once more to glory."

Aethyta wanted to walk out there and then, she had no stomach to listen to any more of Trisio's delusions but forced herself to stay fixed to her spot. She suspected her cohort was of the same mind, and so were a few of Trisio's if she was not mistaken, judging from their stony expressions but they stayed since they knew if a concensus could not be reached, they would all have to witness the unbinding of the Assembly.

Taking a deep breath, she launched into the words she had been wanting to say. "Abilities, knowledge. As Trisio has said," she turned in her spot to eye everyone again, "gifts passed down from the goddess Athame. A mythical being who entered the lives of our ancestors but we all know that being is not one, but many. They have a name," she paused. "Protheans."

"That is not relevent," interjected Trisio. "We..."

"In all aspects, they are relevent. They came to Thessia, saw our potential and chose to meddle in our evolution, guiding us onto a path they wanted..."

"No, that is not...," interrupted Trisio, anxiety in her eyes.

"I have the right to voice." That shut Trisio up. "The history and nature of the Protheans," continued Aethyta, "is not so pretty or shiny as we imagined them to be. They knew about the Reapers, they needed and wanted to build an enormous force to fight the invaders. In so doing, they unleashed their ambitions and secured themselves a galactic empire. Where they could, they looked for potential candidates to swell their ranks. If I were them, to see such plumb ripe fruits to pluck on Thessia, yeah, I would do so. With control of a vast empire, with so much power, technological supremacy, who wouldn't be tempted? We were one of many primitive races but they saw in us, the best of wines to nurture. They taught us many things, for which I am grateful because I am standing here today, civilised," several grinned wryly at that remark, "instead of grubbing around in the dirt."

"I will not touch on the other aspects of the Protheans, their callous policies towards those who would not bend to their will. I will reiterate again that they had wanted to advance us to their level. But they did not complete their work with us for the Reapers arrived. So they did the one wise thing they could do, they removed all signs of their presence and buried the Prothean archives they had set up on Thessia. Which we were to discover later and used to propel ourselves to advance technology. Where were the guardians in all these? I would presume as we progressed along, they gathered and stored knowledge, to fulfill the purpose for which they were created. To guide, to protect. But somewhere along the flow of time, a third purpose was added and changed the way of selection."

"What do you mean?" someone said behind Trisio who whirled around to mutter something to the speaker who answered sharply, "You are not Athame."

"Selection of the guardians became exclusive..."

"You have no evidence that...," Trisio stopped abruptly and her colour darkened.

"One of your own supplied the evidence. Special markings on names dating centuries back. When the commandos returned with the matriarch, I had genetic tests run. She is of your own clan," Aethyta nodded thoughtfully, "Leria T'Enaire, born 1165 CE." Shocked gasps ran around the forum at that date.

"But that's impossible," someone burst out. "That would make her..."

"Yes, she outlives the normal lifespan of an Asari," Aethyta understood their incredulity. "Which lends weight to the abilities of the guardians. My point is, I believe that function was originally meant to be shared, not held fast in the grip of a few clans."

"You are insane," said Trisio angrily.

"Am I? Shenar T'Dris, would you like to share your clan records with the Assembly? No? Illa T'Wyria? You don't think so either?" Watching the two Asari she named trying to pretend they didn't hear her, Aethyta wished the ground would swallow them up. That would save them and every one of their cohorts the shame of their political machinations. "For all their faults, the Protheans had noble purpose, we are meant to inherit their legacy should they fail. To be the vanguard against the Reapers. But a few among us would see that we dance to tunes of their own desires and in so doing, we strayed."

"You are wrong, we only seek to guide..."

"Once before, I made several suggestions," Aethyta stared at Trisio. "I spoke of mass relays, I spoke of the younglings and what did I get?" Trisio was one of those who was most viperish, ridiculing her ideas, she remembered. "I spoke of advancement, to go beyond what we have already achieved!" her sudden thunder frightened everyone for a moment. "What did the Protheans intend? Why did they create the guardians? What was the point to them? They are supposed to help us move further along the path of evolution, not hold us back! Not to rest satisfied in arrogance that we have done and learnt all we could, not to float along the currents thinking we would make it to shore with no effort. They are not some almighty resources we can always fall back on to dig us out of trouble. We are suppose to be able to stand on our own! If this is how we are suppose to regard the guardians, then they have failed the fundamental direction of their creation!"

Her throat felt dreadfully dry but Aethyta pushed on, directing her words at Trisio. "Have it not occurred to you that the guardians, Leria, might possibly have done what you said she did so that we could prepare an offensive against the TI? Reclaim Thessia, not to save her. Not to stay stagnant, wheeling, dealing, planning, throwing desperate resources we can ill affort to lose to throw back the TI attacks? The TI should be retreating before us, we should not be cowering behind our fortifcations. We built two cities when we could have have built more. Instead, you chose to make policies of your own vaunted desires. How much farther would you go before it finally hit that the demise of the people is in your hands?"

"You are wrong," insisted Trisio but her voice was faint. There was none of that stubborn light in her eyes, only uncertainty and guilt.

A deep voice answered her. "She is right." Startled, Aethyta stepped back when the old matriarch stood. The two Asari sitting on either side of her were equally stunned, they were expecting her to remain drugged and were thus engrossed and had not noticed her stirring. Aethyta waved them back when they reached to stop her. Looking more than a little afraid, Trisio retreated. A tiny smile lifted Leria's lips but she continued on, a steady walk until she reached the centre of the forum.

"It has been a long time since I last stood here," she raised her head to gaze at the vaulted ceiling of the dome. "But no, this is not the original hall."

"What are you?" Aethyta said cautiously, the old matriarch's behaviour so unlike what she had displayed before.

"A moment of sanity, held fast in the storms of darkness. I have very little time," Leria wavered unsteadily and waved Aethyta's hand away. "My sisters are gone, taken and used. I am the only one left and there will be no more as of today. It is better that way," she shook her head as a sound of protest escaped Trisio. "Our vast knowledge had proven to be useless and detrimental to our own. Listen. I do not know why but we, Asari, presented a danger to the Reapers. We and our ancient mentors, the Protheans. This I sensed in the flow of their communications. That is why they seek only to use us, not absorbed us into a new form of their own image. That is why they tried to ground Thessia into dust," a cough escaped her. "I used a part of myself to contact Trisio after the war. To have the survivors rebuilt and to retake Thessia but intentions fell to the depths, I did not convey clearly. In the days that followed, madness communicated itself, I could not stop it and I despaired. But now I can."

"It is as you said," she touched Aethyta on the arm lightly. "The guardians' purpose is to share all knowledge and to encourage the fires of curiosity, imagination to raise the people to greater heights. But our pride blinded us. We forget we are not meant to be tools of political power. We did not serve, instead we sought to impose our desires and convictions. As such, my sisters and I have failed our ancestors and our duty. It is well we are ended. At the turn of the sun, you must forge new meanings to your battles. Build a better Thessia."

Hastily, Aethyta caught hold of her as she sank down, her voice growing faint. Was her flesh getting colder? She was dying, Aethyta realised. Behind her, the rest rose to their feet hurriedly and made their way over to them. The sight of her pain drew murmurs of sympathy and yet she was at peace, they knelt and those nearest to her reached out to touch her.

"Do this," whispered Leria, looking at the faces around her. "You are the guardians now. You are all the very essence of what it is to be Asari. No one is above the other. To do so is to stand apart, never to be whole. Learn from mistakes and know even as you surpass them, that plucking the fruits of wisdom is an unending process that will never cease till you draw last breath. Revive Thessia and the people," she implored, her gaze resting on Aethyta. "We are not the completed form of the Asari. Far from it. It is for you to find it. Cherish and guide the younglings. Create new paths, the future you would see."

"It will be done," she promised, feeling Leria's limbs stiffening even as her eyes closed. "Leria T'Enaire, Aiahcra. You have not failed in your duty. Rest. Be one with the sea, sister. May you find comfort within its heart. One day, we shall see you again."

"It is well," a sigh passed Leria's lips and she spoke no more.


	39. Chapter 39

**Author note : Please let me know if anything sounds froggy. Thanks. :)**

* * *

**Unknown location**

The screen flickered, spewing out numbers and words that flowed swiftly upward. Various windows of data popped open and close. Eyes unblinking, he scrutinsed them carefully. Supplies, power consumption, fleet and troop readiness. Bringing up another new window, he grunted at the favorable reports from the other bases. All was in working order. A pity about Omega though but that couldn't be helped. It was a project probably doomed to run riot given the number of populance they were tinkering with. Frankly, he had been surprised his late boss had even tried it but supposed he was hardpressed for a solution to deal with the hulking menaces that stalked across the galaxy.

_No, he was not. He was turned, just like you are. He betrayed you._

Frowning, he scratched his head irritably, pulling at the collar of his shirt, wishing he had ignored the doctor's advice and taken the pills last night. With so much to keep an eye on, he needed his requisite rest. Now some damn dream voice was whispering in his ear all day, distracting him. Rubbing his eyes, he reached over to the vidcom and his brow deepened further when the face he was expecting did not appear.

"Where's...," he rubbed his brow, struggling to remember, "..Carrie?" he growled at the short hair woman. Brissie? Or was Tessie? Not that he gave a damn, she wasn't the woman he wanted to see.

"She's attending to another duty, sir. How may I serve you?" she said.

"Find her and have her get me something to eat and drink!" he snapped and closed off the vidcom. How he disliked looking into single tone blue eyes that conveyed nothing. It didn't matter that it was a side effect of the implantation, a major flaw of Reaper tech; really, loyal spies were so hard to come by these days, but that he was surrounded by them. Troopers wore helmets that hid the sight but not the other base personnel. A sight that was more than he could bear. A weakness he took care not to display to his colleagues or to the late mentor. Not when a successor had not been determined. How hard he had worked ever since he joined the organization, how proud he was to be singled out for more responsibilties, to be trusted with secret projects. In the end, it didn't matter, that fat slob had just slimed over on the point of senority with the mentor gone.

His knuckles scrapped against his chin as he pulled again at his collar. Had he forgotten to shave? Leaving his chair, he stepped into the washroom in his office, gazing into the mirror as he examined his jaw. A definite fuzzy stubble. Opening the small cabinet beside the mirror, he reached for the small shaver and carefully depilated the bristles. Rubbing his square jaw to ensure smooth skin, he dumped the shaver back into the cabinet, washed his hands and returned to his desk, stopping short when he saw the tray beside the stacks of hardcopy and datapads. Did he order food? Pulling the tray over, he picked up the pastry, ignoring the knife and fork, and bit into it. Steamed grain, vegetables and bits of meat. The aroma drifted around him...

_"... too much. Here we are enjoying this meal but how many are as lucky as we?" she tipped her tray slightly at him._

_"We are working towards it aren't we?" he said soothingly. "It'll just be a while longer..."_

_"I don't think I can last that long...he asked me into his office again...," she pushed away the tray._

_"I'm sorry," he reached over to take her hand. "Look, I'll talk to him, get him to lay off you. If that doesn't work, I'll talk to the boss...here," he cut a small piece off his pastry and held it out to her. "It's still hot, don't forgo your favourite because of some asshole..."_

_"It won't work," she ignored the offering, upset brown eyes staring into his._

_"It will, this time. I made...some breakthroughs, the boss will be happy and you know what that means," he grinned at the light in her eyes. "So let's call this a celebration huh?"_

Bemused, he stared at his hand holding out the pastry. Why was he doing that? A twinge hit the back of his head. Damn the headache. He must had been working too hard. Sleep was his next priority after he finished the food. Yes, that was what he should do. Staring hesitantly at the empty space before him a while longer, he downed the pastry and the mug of juice on the tray and turned back to his console. Where was he? Ah yes, supplies, power consumption, fleet and troop readiness. All was in order.

When the pain hit, he was held in its agonizing grip for what felt like an eternity. Muscles were frozen, the scream he couldn't utter lodged in his throat. Teeth clenched, he clapped a hand to his head, pulling himself upright with enormous effort with the other. The tray crashed to the floor, plate and mug clattering and rolling. As quickly as the terrifying pain gripped him, it left him as abruptly. Panting, he sagged against the desk, hardcopy and datapads tumbling off to scatter untidily around his feet. His heart throbbed madly and bits of his shirt stuck wetly to him as he stared blankly before him.

Carrie. Where was Carrie? He made for the door and smacked impatiently at the panel. The woman at her desk across the door looked up. Damn those blank blue eyes. He focused on her nose instead. "Where is Carrie?" he demanded.

"She's attending a meeting at the main conference room, sir. Can I help you? Sir?" she turned as he strode past her. "Sir?"

"Get back to your work!" he snarled over his shoulder and went through the door beyond her desk. Out in the corridor, he looked left and right. It was mostly empty except for troopers stationed at intervals. The ones nearest to him glanced briefly at him before directing their gaze forward. The conference room was a floor above, he remembered and headed for the nearest lift. None of the troopers stopped him from taking it. Why should they? He was afterall, one of the heads of Cerberus.

_A minor one. Only minor._

Rubbing his head, he wondered at the source of the blinding headache. Perhaps it was stress, the amount of workload he had to handle. Afterall, they were on the verge of broad deployments, everything had to go off without a hitch. Or were they? It was somewhat difficult to remember. No, no, they had agree to lie low for a while. To escape the sniffer dogs the Alliance had sent out. Yes, that was what they had agreed to do. But they had not decided on a new time table, so how long was he supposed to keep those divisions on ice? Supplies were not finite, they should be scouring for new sources. That or simply picked a new window of opportunity.

Musing deeply, he headed out automatically for the conference room once the doors of the lift opened. Down the corridor, a left turn, then a right turn. He staggered back when the wall failed to give way. Irritation rose to the fore, angrily, he slapped at the panel before his fingers stabbed out, inputting his personal code. Who the hell locked the damn doors?! The dimness within made him blink but the familiar smell and the sounds that floated to his ears as he stepped in made his lips curled. Was he at it again? Slop slop slop. Was food and self gratification all that slop knew? For a moment, he debated, before deciding to stay. He would just stand there in plain sight until that sorry excuse of a human realised he had an audience. One great way to prick that laughable coat of virtue he drew about himself.

Silently, he walked past the conference table. That fellow liked to use the lounge, there were large couches there for convenience. He turned the corner and contempt twisted his lips; his compatriot had been invited it seemed. His gaze alighted on the bottles of wine, glasses and dishes. Clearly, they had indulged their appettites very well before moving to the next item of entertainment. Their mentor had his moments too, as many as six to eight sexual liaisons with different partners in a week but this, his eyes roamed over the tableau that would have fitted nicely in any of the skin flicks on the xtranet. A shameless orgy.

It was rather pointless really, his being there. At the end of it, he seriously doubt his two esteemed colleagues would be in any state to discuss the questions he had in mind. And they wouldn't care that he had a faceful of their sport. He turned to go, rubbing at his head to ease the headache when one of the entangled naked bodies rolled over. Coldness seemed to swept through him when he saw her face.

"Carrie? No, Carrie," his hands grasped empty air when she was tugged away. "No, you let her go!" he threw himself at the group, pulling the body on top and realised he was looking down at the indignant bearded face of Rimmer.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" his hand was struck away. "Get your own..." his next words were a gurgle when a fist came down on his face, blood split as his teeth nicked his lips. "Fuck y..." Another hammering blow knocked him backwards. Before he could recover, hands latched around hs throat.

"I"ve enough of **you**!" he squeezed with all his might. Behind him, Carrie crawled away before sitting to stare at the struggle. Totally oblivious to the fight, the other threesome carried on.

Perhaps some glimmer that his life was at stake finally filtered in on Rimmer when he couldn't prise off the hands at his throat. His knee came up and jabbed hard into his assailant's stomach, knocking the breath out of him but those hands were like steel, closing off his air. Eyes bulging, he tried again to throw his attacker off but howled instead when he was kneed in the groin and then the full weight came down on his gonad. He shrieked briefly even as his head was lifted and slammed down on the floor. Again and again with a sickening wet crunch.

_One more. One more._

Vengefully, he rose to his feet, picked up a bottle from the table and smashed it before pulling the women off the writhing mound of flesh on the floor. A wrenching howl filled the room when he swiped the broken neck of the bottle across the groin. Ignoring the rolling hunched body, he twisted his bloody fingers into the hair at the neck, pulling back the head. Fearful eyes pleaded with him, mouth babbling words he did not hear. One stroke with the broken bottle across that fat filled neck and the torrent of words morphed into wet gurgling. He released his hold, filled with disgust and something else. Triumph.

_Done. It's done. I'm free._

His head might throb and pull but he felt on top of the world. Dropping the bottle, he crossed over to Carrie and pulled her up. Avoiding the blank stare of those blue eyes, he pulled her after him. "Come," he added to the other two women who rose obediently at the command and followed, ignoring the spreading blood and corpses. Outside, he keyed in his code, sealing the room. It would never be used again and no one would even bother to find out why. No one would ever try.

"Return to your quarters, clean yourselves up and return to your duties," he turned to Carrie, focusing on her lips. "Carrie, report to me after you're done."

"Yes, sir."

He did not watch them go, instead he headed back towards the lift with light footsteps. Free. He was free. With the other two dead, there was no one who could assume their places. Not unless he chose to and that was not going to happen. No, everything was his now. Everything that the mentor had created, everything that he owned, was his to command. His to play with. He stopped to look out of a window along the corridor. Those warships, the troops, the bases. All his.

_The future is mine. I will make it as I see fit. I will make them pay for what they have done and they shall see the magnificence of the price._

* * *

**Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System**

The rings spun steadily, the energies contained within them blazing in contrast to the darkness around the mammoth object. Streaks of multiple lights suddenly flared before seeming to coalescence and then disappeared. As the frigate moved away, another burst of lights blossomed behind it. Larger than the frigate but no less stealthy than its mate, the Normandy turned to a slightly different trajectory. The Ain Jalut mirrrored a parallel course and they headed towards their common target; Omega. On the other side of the heliosphere, an Alliance cruiser lurked in the shadows of Imorkan.

Thump! The ball jounced against the rim of the net before rolling into the net. Shepard grinned, waggling her fingers in invitation as Liara pulled the bouncing ball to her. Sweat gleamed on her face, her black sweatshirt and mid-thigh pants clinging to her. Uncomfortable but she paid no mind to it except her opponent. As similarly dressed, there was a slight sheen to Liara's skin but other than that, there was no sign that she had been working out for nearly an hour. She eyed Shepard, dribbling the ball leisurely before feinting to go right. Pivoting when Shepard veered in that direction, she turned but found her way blocked when she tried to go forward. Instead of backtracking to try another feint, she made as if to charge around Shepard but instead leaned in to plant a kiss on her bondmate's lips when she followed. The distraction was just enough for her to jump up and launch the ball towards the net.

"Hey!" Hands on her hips, Shepard watched the ball rolled in. "That's not fair."

"There is nothing in the rules to say I cannot," Liara ran a teasing finger along Shepard's jaw before dodging the grab for her and another. A light chime from her omni-tool cut short their play and Liara pivoted, dodging another grab agilely and headed for the exit. Using the tip of her foot, Shepard flipped the ball to her hands before tossing it to one of the grinning off-duty crew who had been watching at the sideline and jogged after Liara who was making for the showers next to the gymnasium. With a few other occupants and the showers being opened stalls, they couldn't share as much as they like or take as long though Shepard managed to sneak in a proper bit of payback when they were dressing. With another hour to go, they went to the wardroom for a light salad and a drink while checking the xtranet for the latest developments.

A smile lit Liara's lips as she read her email. "Dad says the Assembly have come to a new agreement with the Geth. They are going to reassess troop deployments and possibly try to forward the schedule as well."

"They're not going to wait for the results of the field test?" said Shepard, pleased to see her in high-spirits. The gloom that had been hanging over her for the past weeks had dissipated once Aethyta got back to them with the good news that the rest of the Assembly had swung in line. Not much else had been said except that the old matriach had passed on and that she would tell them all about it once they got home though there were a few choice remarks about their current assignment. None of which would reach Aria's ears, thankfully.

Liara shook her head. "No, at least not for the neighbouring zones. They are going to take the opportunity to clear and control Amali since TI resistence will be minimum. After that, if the scrambler works, they will concentrate on consolidating a defense grid during implementation."

Spooning a few fava beans into her mouth, Shepard nodded and reached out to take Liara's hand. "See, it's all working out. By next year, it's all going to be very different," she said aloud, more for the ears of those sitting around the wardroom while saying more to Liara through their link. It wouldn't do for the crew to speculate about their strange behaviour were they to suddenly burst aloud into laughter and so on for no reason. Her marriage to an Asari was not accepted unanimously among her own species so the less aberrant their interactions, the less rumours and stories about them the better. Less ammunition for their critics to lobe although the crew of the Glasgow had been anything but respectful and amiable. Given how much hobnobbing they would have among aliens in the times they had spent onboard the Citadel, any prejudices would have been ironed out. Still, there would be some stubborn capers. She looked at the chronometer on her omni-tool. "Time we head up."

Together, they disposed of their plates and cups into the bins by the door before taking the lift to the conference room in the upper levels. Dorrin was already stationed by the holodisplay of the Sahrabarik System, tracking the progress of the two frigates.

"It'll be a couple of hours before they reach deployment," he said when they took up positions opposite him. "There's nothing in the comm buoys besides the usual com traffic for the last 24 hours."

"That can go both ways for us," Shepard waved at the zones around Omega. "There's zero activity out a 100 klicks.

"That pretty much confirms her data."

"Still doubting eh?"

"I doubt everything till I see the hard facts. Especially a rat's hole like this one," he nodded towards the image of Omega. "A - very - large - can - of - worms," he emphasized. " I don't think there's much we can do with it except for her suggested bam plan."

"Let's not toss the cutlery out yet," Shepard leaned forward, staring hard.

Beside her, Liara could sympathise with her bondmate's desire not to write off the inhabitants of the spacestation but like most of the others, she didn't think there was much hope that those who survived could possibly have done so unscathed. It was not as if they had skills passed down from the Protheans as did the Aiahcra, to bulwark and extend their resistence against the invaders. Still, the thought of just snuffing out those lives were horrifying but unless the Coucil were willing to put in the funds to try to rehabilitate the victims, that was just what they had to do. It was unlikely to happen and with Aria, less so. She turned her attention to another encrypted message dropped in to her email.

"Feron has just sent the last cargo manifests from traders that made transit through the system," using the conole before her, she threw up the list against that of the compiled figures from Aria's data. "A few of those made port with the station. Ship transponders, time and day matched."

A whistle left Dorron's lips as he read the lists. "Are they running out of supplies? That is alot of grub there."

"Yeah, for how many? And it's all mostly dry stuff," pointed out Shepard. "Wouldn't be farfetched to assume that was when they went turtle."

"Turtle?" Liara blinked.

Dorrin laughed and pantomimed turning over with a hand. "You two still have a long way to go," he grinned before sobering. "That's what I'm banking on too. It's too unwieldy, they didn't build it and they got it with minimum effort..."

"You have better not let Aria hear that," Liara warned gravely though her lips curved at the thought of Aria's reaction. Thankfully, the pirate queen was back at her hideout picking out a group of mercenaries and wouldn't be onboard until they had reached a decision.

Shepard's teeth flashed when Dorrin simpy shrugged. "If they had every intention of holding on to it, there should have been more activity for the past year but as we've seen from Aria's records, the ships that were stationed here left a year after the war and the number of Cerberus vessels making port gradually dropped to nil. Leaving only merchant vessels that have been paid to drop off supplies at irregular intervals."

"It is most curious," Liara tabbed the datapads before her with her finger, "but deliveries were erratic. Some went directly to Omega, others passed through quite a few intermediaries before reaching the final destination. There is nothing variant in their cargo manifests to suggest such precautions. But...," she trailed off, fingers working rapidly. "One moment, Glyph is sending additional data." The others waited patiently as she worked.

A few images of star systems appeared, replacing the Omega hologram. "I asked Glyph to try to find any information that coincide with the routes of suspect trading ships that made port with Omega," she said, almost quietly and Shepard frowned. "I am not certain if these are correct but it seems that a few of the ships also traded with colonies that reported mass kidnappings..one moment," she trailed off, eyes intent on her console as the others digested the implications of that revelation.

"It doesn't make any sense," Dorrin said quietly. "A spacestation filled with millions of subjects for them to work on and they looked for more?"

"Splotches."

"What?" he stared at Shepard in bemusement.

"Depends on whether they fucked up royally," she shrugged. "The Illusive Man was essentially the quality controller. With him gone, how much control or quality are they going to get?"

"You really think it fell out that way?" he eyed the data dubiously

"Of course not."

He stared at her dumbfounded. "But that's the most obvious answer isn't it," she crossed her arms, "If they wanted to start over, they wouldn't send their victims to Omega..."

"I have it," interrupted Liara. "And it is unexpected," her eyes crinkled unhappily at them. "The colonies that reported the kidnappings, are under the aegis of Terra Firma."

"Terra Firma?" Dorrin was surprised. "One of the political parties that was snowed under in 2185? Tax evasion, I believe."

"Yes but they have colony rights to those systems, started in 2175. During the war, they were part of the refugee relief stations. There were filed complaints against the Alliance and the Council for strong-arm exploitation, misapplications, misconduct..," a disgusted snort from Shepard nearly blanked out her next word, "and impingement."

Dorrin sucked at his teeth. "Damn lot of scrooges. Too bad the Reapers didn't swipe them."

"Who's in charge of Terra Firma now?" Shepard recalled the man who spoke to her. "What's his name...Saracino?"

"Yes," nodded Liara. "After he failed to be elected to the Alliance Parliament, he continued to solicit funds for his organisation, culminating in the charges of tax evasion. He left for one of the colonies after serving a term of sentence."

"What happened next?" said Shepard, not liking what was she hearing. Terra Firma was a political group advocating protection against alien influences to preserve the purity of the human race if she remembered right.

"The war ended before those systems were overrun and the colonies reportedly sent in requests for ships to remove the refugees. Citing lack of supplies and shelter to support that many but with so many ships destroyed in the war, the Alliance and the Council were unable to comply that quickly. Supply deliveries was offered as compensation and accepted," Liara put up the dates of the supply runs. "As you can see, the dearth of stores after the war made it difficult to keep a regular distribution. Not just those systems but every surviving colony. "

"I'd expect more noises from them," Dorrin looked at Liara expectantly but she shook her head.

"Nothing was heard from them thereafter though their comm traffic was normal. Supplies picked up after a year."

"When did they file the kidnap reports?" said Shepard.

Liara looked down, figetting a little. "Just a month after news that the Council want a census of every colony." The census, they knew, was to update the archives to facilitate reconciliation among those who were still searching for their families.

"Wait, is there a investigative report?" Dorrin was sure the Alliance would have sent teams to find out what had happened.

"Yes, here," Liara sent the reports to his terminal as Shepard read it off hers. Silence fell.

Except for interviews and an examination of the habitats and grounds of the missing people, the report was rather dry and bare of details. There was no attempt to get an exact number and breakdown; how many humans, Asari, Turians and the like. Shepard couldn't fathom how the investigators carried out their duties or what the brass were thinking to accept the reports. Did Hackett even get to read it or did someone simply verbally filled him in?

"What the hell?" Dorrin burst out, flicking his fingers contemptuously at the screen. "That's a investigative report?! The old man accepted this?"

"I've the same thought but we can't lay it on him. He's got alot to handle," said Shepard.

Dorrin sighed but nodded. She was right. "Someone dropped the ball. With so much shit going around, I'm not surprised that they thought The TI and Cerberus are the obvious perpetrators. But then, how would you explain the same thing happening to the Turians and the rest?"

"I think the TI on their side are responsible," said Liara. "Terra Firma has no influence beyond their own scope. The kidnappings were already occurring before they filed in their report. Perhaps they thought they could hide their deeds in the chaos."

"That's assuming they are responsible for pitching out those refugees to Cerberus. If they are, it means they are in contact with those dogs," Shepard chewed on her lip. "We need to send in teams and turn those colonies upside down. I'm betting they have a direct comlink to Cerberus."

"And those traders probably knew about it too," added Dorrin glumly. "How much were they paid, you think?"

The thought was revolting. "I suppose most of Cerberus's recruits come from Terra Firma?" said Liara. "Their ideals are are close to identical."

"Might have in the beginning. Until they saw what they were doing during the war. If we're lucky, this is the only deal they've done," Shepard saw their incomprehension. "If they are working hand in hand, they could easily slip in untainted agents."

"Speaking of which, what are the possibilties there are Terra Firma sympathisers in the Alliance?" put in Dorrin. "I'm getting some vibes that we are throwing away our own in causes not our own and alot of talk we should just sweep our own problems."

He was speaking of the Alliance troops who had died defending the two cities on Thessia, Liara realised. The unhappiness was valid, those deaths should not have occurred had the Assembly been functioning as it should. Would the Alliance withdraw their military aid? That was a consequence the Asari were prepared for. It would leave them a longer timetable to retake Thessia but they would not dissent were it to happen.

"It's a natural reaction to our losses on Thessia but yes, there could be sympathizers," said Shepard. "I'd say we leave it to the old man. Once he learns of this, he's going to do something about it."

A loud ping drew their attention to the display. The image of the Sahrabarik System appeared before it was replaced by Omega. Two green icons were rapidly approaching the spacestation in opposite directions.

"They are near deployment," said Liara, removing all the other data and leaving Omega as the sole image. "One thousand klicks. No sign of station defenses going online. Nine hundred," she counted down as the distance between the spacestation and the frigates decreased.

As both ships neared their designated drop zones, their landing bays opened. Thousands of tiny probes floated out in their wake as they veered and spiralled around the spacestation. Both crew on station eyed their scan data vigilantly, watching for any sign that someone had noticed their presence. Following a rigid flight plan, the frigates each reached the end of their spiral at opposite ends of the station before breaking off and turning back to the mass relay. The probes they left behind kicked in their tiny propellents, making for any opening their sensors found once they reached the spacestation.

"They are in," Liara reported as thousands of tiny lights sparkled within Omega. "Signal is steady."

"Well," Shepard cocked her head, "we should have an idea what lurks within in 24 hours. And we'll know whether we should pull the plug."

"A close look at the bowels of the depths of hell," mused Dorrin, thinking of the unfortunate mercenary scouting party Aria had sent. "I'm really not looking forward to that."


	40. Chapter 40

**Ilos**

The voices had been going on and on for quite some time. Rising high and low, floating in and out through the eddies of murmurings that was integral to any place of gathering. Slackening his intense typing, he listened for a while.

"It's only been a few days. Stop fretting."

"We're back to the beginning if the two devices fail."

"The end result will still be the same. The only difference is the speed in which the objectives are achieved."

"Optimism is..."

"By the egg, wallow in mud as you like!"

An argument replicated over and over among the researchers since the day the Council stamped their approval to field test the devices on Sur'Kesh. Different words, different emotional nuances but the same theme; what if the scrambler did not work? Failure would not cause undue distress, disappointment was acceptable. That much was clear. The struggle against the TI would simply continue on its protracted course. At the end of which, there would be none of them left. But the cost. Were they so willing to accept the cost in lives? He didn't think so but then, they weren't exactly putting themselves out to find other solutions. That was the most disturbing trend that was emerging among his colleagues, whether they realised it or not. Their sapping quiet resignation was unsettling, a vast contrast to the boiling fiery energies during the war. He shook his head as he bent over his console, fingers busy on the keyboard.

After several minutes, he sat back as he ran a diagnostic program on his work. It was not what he specialised in. It may not be the best but then it was not the worst and he believed he was up to any challenge. It would have been better if he had someone with the expertise to help him with it but circumstances dictate that he do it himself. For better or worse, if he failed, then there was nothing more he could do but accept the inevitable. At least he would have the satisfaction in knowing he had tried, for the good of all, even if some did not see it that way. A check with the chronometer showed he had at least half an hour. Carefully, he overlaid the program with other projects, encrypted his console before making for the canteen a floor below.

For once, there were no groups of humans lounging around the tables, just a sprinkle of Asari, Volus and Salarians. The rest would be resting in their quarters, down at the archives or working on the foundations of the first permanent complex to be built on the planet since the destruction of the Prothean cities. Designed to house bigger research laboratories, military facilities, quarters and a full range of leisure amenities, Ilos would once more become a research outpost. Perhaps regained the prominence it had once enjoyed thousands of years ago. A prospect he looked forward to. If he succeeded in his endeavour, one of the outcomes was to be recognised as one of the founders, the architect to the demise of the TI. It would enhance his clan, his family reputation as well as his own.

Taking an energy bar from one of the opened crates on the counter, he poured himself a cup of water before sitting down at an empty table in the farthest corner, contemplative. Would he fail? The odds were heavy against his success, he had no delusions about that. It was an anxiety that had been gnawing away at him for days. The more he thought of it, the more he was convinced he would not achieve the end he wanted. Yet, he had to try. So much, so much had already been lost. Images rose to the fore; horrifying, wrenching. Unacceptable.

He stood up, the energy bar and water forgotten and returned to his workstation. The diagnostic program had ended and the result blinked greenly at him. As expected. He transferred the file into an OSD, tucked it into the pocket of his lab coat and made his way down to the entrance to the lower archives, picking up his breather mask along the way. He climbed into one of the empty buggies parked just outside the exit of the base laboratory and rode it down the very long corridor that stretched parallel to the trench before turning down various slopes and ended up at one of the lifts Module had uncovered that led directly to the monorail. The soldiers at the lift doors, a pair of Turians, eyed him carefully as he stood patiently, waiting for the scanner to finish its run, trying not to show the slightest tremor of his anxiety. Should the scanner screamed a warning, the first shot would not come from them but from hidden gun ports mounted all around them.

The doors opened and he stepped in, slumping a little. Somehow, he had expected the scanning device to detect his intentions. Irrational. It was just fears playing him up, he knew. He checked his chronometer again, then stood staring at the changing numbers on the lift panel, his fingers coiling round and round around themselves even as a few scenarios ran themselves over and over again in his mind. To be sure, he had missed nothing, no eventuality he did not prepare for or think of. Efficiency. Celerity. Competency. Perception. Yes, all was in order. The lift stopped and he stepped out, wrenching apart his hands with effort. More soldiers; human and Turian. None stopped him when the scanners emitted no alarm. He climbed into the open-air vehicle and was soon gliding down the monorail.

The ride was strangely soothing, the long stretching tunnel and lights that flashed by almost spellbinding. He felt he could continue in that state forever, hung in that neverending stream and was almost sorry when the vehicle slowed and came to a stop. More soldiers stood at the entrance of the archives and he fancied he could feel the weight of their eyes on him as he continued to sit in the vehicle. Reluctantly, he got out, tugged at his lab coat and stood meekly for the scans before the green light was given and he stepped through the door to the walkway lift.

It seemed as if his spirits dropped lower and lower as the lift sank down. Stiffly, he made his way to the platform terminals, his feet suddenly doubled their weight. As usual, his arrival was noted and the other researchers ended their sessions at the terminals before making for the lift. Watching them surreptitiously as they walked past him, he almost wished one of them would speak to him but none did. Once more twisting his fingers together, he paced before Vigil, waiting for them to get to the top. The VI watched him but said nothing and he contemplated having it turned off. It would make no difference, except perhaps ridding that feeling of guilt. Of being weighed. It might not be alive but its form was that of the ancients who had once stood where he was. Its presence was akin to a physical manifestation of a rebuke to what he had in mind.

A glance at the lift. It was at the top and there was no one in sight. There were the security vids of course but no one would be any wiser if he succeeded. Taking a deep breath, he expelled it noisily before taking the OSD from his pocket. No, there was no going back. Resolutely, he stepped up to the main terminal and slide in the disc. Lifting his hands, he began his work.

* * *

**Local Cluster, Earth, Citadel**

The bass pulsed rhythmically to the light drums as the tones synthesizers weaved in and out, as if keeping time with the rainbow of colours that oscillated occasionally, imbued with hues of amber that glowed softly in the encompassing darkness. In the midst of this sea of radiance and sounds, bodies twist and turn at will. Some with aplomb, some with abandon, some with reservations and others with caution. Gyrating with artistry on floating patforms, hired dancers led the wave. A mass articulation of passions.

Seated in the booth with the sound buffer dialed reduce the volume, she watched the dancers, mostly young Asari, and wondered how many would of them would heed the call to pursue a vocation. It was too soon to tell. For centuries, it had always been the norm for the young to be given free rein to explore their curiosity and desires. Like the Reis that flitted among the flowers and streams of Thessia, they had wandered, sampled and tasted. Never settling for long until they felt the call to set down roots more firmly. That was how it was with most, some never did find a mate or chose a profession. And some, never even made it to the second cycle. Those were the ones who were most reckless or simply unfortunate.

"Thinking?" a finger smoothed lightly over her arm before her hand was taken. A tingle ran up when her palm was stroked softly and her own fingers curled around the other hand.

She nodded towards the dancing Asari. "How many do you think will return home?"

Hiaras regarded the dancers gravely. "If they have seen the vid of the Convocation, I'd say perhaps two thirds of them will respond to the new policies."

"Yes, they would have seen the change," she murmured, thinking of the tension that had held them weeks ago when they watched the live vid of the event from Thessia in Nyrine's hopsital room. How surprised they had been when the Siari priestesses sang the requiems for the departed during the ceremonies and most particularly, for a Custodian of the Assembly who was not named. There was only one person they could think of to warrant such reverence but since Aethyta had not divulged what that occurred in the confrontation in her brief communique, they would have to wait till they return to Thessia. That was, if she was willing to talk about it.

Despite her assurance there would be no dissolution, their anxiety did not leave them until the Assembly announced the changed policies. For once, there was no raised dissension. Not a single word from the forum saved the elected Speaker who spoke without interruption. For once, the proposals were not murky, couched in ambiguous declarations and shibboleths. The delivery was careful and concise, positive and encouraging. Such honest determination and conviction was hardly heard for centuries and it held them entranced. At the end of it, they had stared at one another, certain it was a dream but eventually, it washed over them that finally, they would see a new era for Thessia. They had made a pledge then and sealed it with wine Hiaras had gone out to buy at the hospital patient lounge. There was a considerable queue at the sales kiosks, she had commented when she returned. Clearly, the convocation had inspired hope among the people.

She turned her eyes to Hiaras as she continued. "Not all of them would be fully committed. It's difficult to curb disparate enthusiasms to narrow it down and direct towards a singular purpose."

"If only their inclinations could be discern quickly enough..," she murmured, thinking of her own limited foray in the expanse of the sea before she waded into it with surety, her objectives clear and absolute.

"That's easy," Hiaras grinned wryly at Sanar's surprise, "start from the beginning."

"Defining their vocation in the elementary phase is too early," Sanar objected. "None of them know what they're about."

"Not define," Hiaras shook her head, "I'm not suggesting to lock them in as soon as one of them sneeze in any direction. Do you know how Liara T'Soni arrived at the point where she is today?"

"I don't know her that well enough to ask," Sanar leaned forward, Hiaras would fill in her curiosity, she knew. "Though I heard of a few rumours here and there."

"From what I gathered from the bits dropped by Aethyta, matriach Benezia, her mother, provided the guiding force in the forming phase. However, a difference in interpretations between them led the younger T'Soni to strike out on her own. Benezia's position had most likely played a part too in impelling the choice in a commendable career much earlier than expected. A craft Liara had an aptitude for. That in turn, formed the ground for her successful stint as an information broker. Within a space of two years, she carved out a respectable niche and a serious reputation at Ilium."

"Two years?" Sanar was astonished. "Something was driving her," she could hazard a guess as to what it was; Shepard. The lost of her lover then was surely the impetus.

"Very likely," agreed Hiaras. "Certain factors propelled Liara T'Soni down a different path from her peers, mostly personal but her starting phase was effective. Why not replicate some of that? Identify developing preferences and steer them in the right directions. With proper encouragements, it may gave them a heading in the next phase."

"Changing centuries old percept," Sanar sat back, thinking hard. The idea was solid and appealing for it would largely remove the cloud of ambiguity that every Asari faced in her maiden cycle. It would also change the matriarchs' customary perception of irrelevance among the young and the indulgence usually bestowed on them.

"Yes. That is what Aethyta wants. We should try to guide those who are adept and resourceful into a viable outlet during the interim of questing. Right now," Hiaras waved towards the dancers, "they float like solar winds, trying to find the catalyst to morph."

"Rewriting the way we perceive ourselves," observed Sanar, "will not be easy."

The strong tug on her hand took her by surprise and she was out of her seat before she knew it. "As to that," white teeth flashed briefly before she was drawn closer. "I would like to expand my perception of you."

Her breath caught at the look in Hiaras's eyes "I...I er," she stuttered, torn between wanting to give in to the fires she could feel and dragging her feet a while longer, to be entirely sure of her choice.

"Dance with me."

It was hard to resist, with those irresistible eyes on her and she let herself be drawn onto the dance floor. The music was loud, a much unwelcome din in her ears but it was forgotten when Hiaras began to dance, invitation subtle but clear in her supple movements. The beat of the bass seemed to infuse her heart and being as she followed her partner; swaying to the music that thrummed in time to their unspoken desires. The brief touches and embraces as they revolved about each other was tingling and sent shivers up her spine. The tension built, teasing deft touches along her arms, a soft breath at her neck, the warmth of the body behind her, the heat in those eyes that beckoned, filled with promise, heightening the sensation in her nerves that she felt she must eventually explode or scream.

The sudden silence was deafening and she stared at Hiaras in shock, caught in her arms as they halted. Then she was pulled off the dance floor and it took her a moment to realise the music had halted when dancers cheered and whistled their approval of the piece. Within seconds, a different composition blared and the dancers picked up where they left off. Mind and senses still whirling in their siren song, she watched blankly as Hiaras swiped her credit chit at the payment terminal at their table before being towed out of the nightclub.

"Still here?" Hiaras chuckled as she swayed a little.

The fresh air broke her out of the heady enchantment and she looked around them, realising they stood at the railing outside the nightclub, overlooking the floor below. The great arms of the wards blazing through the huge windows stretching from end to end of the two levels. Skycars glided to and fro outside. The sight steadied her.

"That was...," she began, somewhat surprised she could still speak and then all speech was forgotten as Hiaras pressed against her, all thoughts thrown out as delight coursed through her. Lips lightly tasted her own before she invited a more thorough sampling. Desire flared and she felt Hiaras responding, feeling her reaching out and she ached to assuage their passions. She felt a sense of loss when Hiaras drew back.

"How shall it be then?" Hiaras caressed her face gently, resisting the urge to drag her off there and then to their rented apartment. For months now they had taken the time to get to know each other, testing the waters, pulling and pushing. An inviting smile and a light touch was all that she allowed herself, keeping in check her own ardor that she had never allowed to blaze forth, until just now. She knew Sanar felt the same. They were both on the edge and they could either fly or continue as they were. Not something she was looking forward to but if Sanar did not feel she was ready, then she would have to resign herself to wait.

Rather than answer, how that would break the spell! Sanar planted a kiss on her lips and felt the tension eased slightly. Smiling at the happiness in Hiaras's eyes, she let her tucked her arm under hers and they moved away from the railing to the lifts, making desultory remarks on their surroundings to distract themselves. In the lift, Sanar pulled Hiaras to a corner once it emptied partially on other floors, just so they would have a little space to themselves. Stroking her hand soothingly, Hiaras glanced around them as the lift stopped again and more people trooped in. As she turned back to Sanar, a familiar face among the newcomers caught her eye.

Feeling her stiffened, Sanar said, "What is it?"

Putting her lips next to hers, Hiaras murmured, ""It's Jieull. I thought she's on Thessia."

Where had she heard that name before? "Ji...," a pinch on her arm shut her up and then she remembered. Nyrine had said her contact with the detractors was Jieull, a researcher at the medical centre. "What do you want to do?" she said softly.

"Can you see her? Good, we'll tail her and see what she's up to."

From lowered eyelids, Sanar watched their quarry who did not seem to have noticed them. Although she had never met Jieull, Nyrine had spoke of the meeting with her at the park and her threat so it was all too likely Jieull would recognise her. Perhaps even Hiaras. After all, she was one of Aethyta's commandos. She kept her face partially hidden and prodded Hiaras when Jieull got off; a few levels below the Presidium and they followed after. Only to find themselves bombarded by a bewildering array of bright colourful holographic advertisements that blinked and glided. Floating in the air was the aroma of cooked food from nearby small eateries. Occasional loud greetings, in foreign languages, as vendors welcomed their customers clashed with the music racket in the background.

For a moment, they stood at a lost, before they spotted their target rapidly disappearing in the distance. Taking care to mingle with the crowd, they meandered along, keeping a respectable distance between them and Jieull who moved with purpose down the promenade. Sanar could hardly keep her eyes from her surroundings which were so unlike the usual placid pace of the Presidium or the other wards. There was a frenetic like energy underlying everything. Robust and yet unnerving. The sounds, the smells, the voices. She glanced at the browsing people around her and it was then she realised that most of the vendors and the crowd were human.

"I think we should consider another way of shadowing her," she turned to Hiaras who nodded.

"Struck you, didn't it?" Hiaras cast an eye around them. "This way. Quick," she added as she threaded her way through the crowd, pulling Sanar after her through a narrow passage that led them to a locked maintenance access door. As her omni-tool flashed, Sanar kept a lookout. Before long, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Hurriedly, she stepped through the unlocked door. "Up there," Hiaras waved at a flight of stairs which they took two at a time. "We might lose her," she muttered as she worked to unlock the door to the catwalk and sprang through impatiently when it slide opened. Taking a moment to orient herself, she gestured in the direction they should go.

It was fortunate that neither of them were dressed in frills. Their muted coloured long tunics and pants blended in with the gloom. Below, no one noticed the pair as they ran along the catwalk, their boots hardly making any noise. They scanned the crowd, moving farther up when they could not see an Asari dressed in cream and maroon. When they finally caught sight of her, she was beyond an intersection, still heading straight forward. They ran to the set of doors to the next block. Locked. Sanar glanced around once more as Hiaras worked at the lock; no one was on the catwalk and those along the promenade were still oblivious. When the door swished open behind her, she followed Hiaras and then abruptly halted.

The humans in the stockroom eyed the intruders for several seconds before knives appeared in their hands. None of them said anything but approached the two Asari slowly. Clearly, they were not meant to be there either, nor were they going to waste any time bandying words. Which was a pity since all the two wanted was to pass through the stockroom. At the slap on her left thigh, Sanar cast a biotic throw at the three facing her and charged at the closest human as he flew back against the stack of crates behind him. Before he had time to complete the bounce, she struck the side of his head. He fell like a tree, hitting the floor face down, unconscious. No doubt his nose would be blunted but that was not her concern. The second was still stunned when she reached him and was put out easily. The third was picking himself up and went down again when she hammered on his back before striking in the same spot as she did with the other two.

When she looked up, not a single human was standing, they had all gone down without raising an alarm and Hiaras was grinning at her before dashing out of the room. Without a word, she pointed to the Asari in the cream and maroon amidst the sea of humans when Sarnar joined her at the railing of the catwalk. It took less than a minute to catch up to Jieull whose progress was hampered by the crowd but eventually, she headed towards the alleys behind the markets. Wary of alerting their quarry, they moved cautiously along the catwalk and stopped when Jieull reached an Asari standing in the shadows. Tried as she might, Sanar could not make out her features until she shifted in agitation as words were exchanged.

"That's one of Tevos's assistants, Seskia" Hiaras hissed. "And that's not good," she added when the two brought their omni-tools online, clearly exchanging information. "I'll get Jieull, you keep Seskia from running."

"Here?" Sanar leaned over to look along the alley, there were only a handful of humans who didn't look like they would interfere in business not their own. "Why not."

At a signal from Hiaras, she dropped from the catwalk, using her biotics to effect a soft landing. Jieull was knocked out before she had time to take in the intruders and Seskia simply froze where she was, saving Sanar the trouble of pinning her down. Hiaras glanced up and down the alley, the humans who were nearby stared in their direction for a moment before turning away which suited her just fine. Without further ado, she crouched down, bringing up the hacking programs in her omni-tool.

"What were you passing to her," she said harshly as she keyed Jieull's omni-tool.

"N..nothing," stuttered Seskia. "You shouldn't..."

"No matter, I'll know soon enough," Hiaras said dismissively. "You, however, might want to start coming up with explanations to your employer."

"No, please, I...I didn't have a choice," said Seskia, her eyes pleading with Sanar. "Don't send me to C-Sec."

"That is not for us to decide," Hiaras grunted in satisfaction when the last firewall withered beneath the virus she released into Jieull's omni-tool and data began to flow. "Make it easy on yourself, what did you give her?"

Hands twisting in her anxiety, Seskia stared down at the floor before glancing at Sanar and flinched at the frosty regard. "Just a vid," she whispered.

"A vid?" Sanar was sure there was more than that and pushed Seskia against the wall.

"And...and some reports!" Seskia added hastily. "That..that the councilor did not forward to the other representatives and ambassadors."

"How much longer?" Sanar cast another searching look up and down the valley. While she was certain the humans would not meddle, that did not necessarily mean someone would not make a report to station security.

"Done," Hiaras tapped a key, sending another program into Jieull's omni-tool that would render the device useless. "Come on, let's get her out of here. I'm not leaving one of our own helpless in this ward, even if she's scum."

"You get the other side," Sanar bent to take one of Jieull's limp arms and glared when Seskia stared dumbly at her. Hastily she took the other arm after a prod by Hiaras. Together, they hoisted the unconscious Asari upright. "Where to?"

"Let's get out of this alley and find a cab," said Hiaras, leading the way.

Which was easier said than done. Once out of the valley, they had to make their way through the crowd, difficult enough as it was by themselves. With a dead weight, they made slow progress. Never before had Sanar seen so many humans packed together in one place and she had to wonder if they were displaced colonists given temporary shelter in the ward. None tried to impede them though there were numerous curious glances tossed their way. It took several minutes before Hiaras spotted the cab stand and they headed over to it with relief. A cab arrived swiftly to the summons and Sanar was more than glad to toss Jieull into the back seats. A hard stare from Hiaras sent Seskia to scurry after.

"Where are we taking her?" asked Sanar curiously as Hiaras took the controls.

"You'll see."

"Oh please, can't you just forget you saw me?" begged Seskia from the back.

"We can throw you off quietly, if you like that," returned Hiaras as the skycar lifted. That shut Seskia up though they could hear her fidgetting restlessly.

To Sanar's amusement, Hiaras's choice of dumping ground was an empty bench near C-Sec. The sight of the Citadel security headquarters was enough to bring fresh entreaties from Seskia who refused to budge from her seat, making it difficult to remove Jieull. However, they managed it without rousing suspicion and propped the unconscious Asari seated upright, with an arm outstretch along the back of the bench. As Hiaras turned and walked away, Sanar hesitated before nicking Jieull's neck with a fingernail and returned to the cab. Carefully, she shook out the bit of skin into the credit chit pouch she kept in the pocket of her tunic.

The hour was late, the Asari embassy would be closed but Hiaras was aware that Tevos tend to work late so she keyed in the embassies as the next destination. To Sanar's surprise, rather than being reduced to jelly, Seskia got out of the cab wordlessly when they arrived, her downcast face a reflection of her resignation to whatever fate would befall her. Her personal code opened the main doors and they walked past silent desks and counters to the Councilor's office where they could see the gleam of lights. Rather than barged in, Hiaras hit the intercom and requested for entry.

Not expecting any interruptions, the call was startling to Tevos. Switching on the security vids, she recognised her visitors at once. Why were they calling at such an hour? She keyed the the door opened and her gaze lingered on Seskia's distressed face before turning to Hiaras who bowed after reaching her desk. Sanar hovered by the door, watching Seskia carefully.

"Apologies, Councilor, for our intrusion but we have to bring your assistant to you on an important matter," said Hiaras.

"And that is?" Tevos looked at Seskia who could not meet her eyes. What had she done now?

"Passing diplomatic information to a third party. I have stripped all data and destroyed the person's omni-tool."

"I see," Tevos said quietly, her face inscrutable.

"I...I didn't mean to...," Seskia burst out and quailed when Tevos raised a hand.

"It is late, return to your quarters."

"But...councilor," Seskia stared at Tevos with panicked round eyes.

"Stay there until I summon you, do you understand?" Tevos emphasized heavily.

Seskia's face went pale but she nodded. Sanar stood aside as she turned and slowly made for the doors. Much as she would like to ask why Tevos would let Seskia go without questioning her, she was sure the councilor had her reasons.

"Wait!" Hiaras said sharply, halting Seskia in her tracks. "I've yet to wipe everything from your omni-tool," she activated her own and made sure the programs had run their course before letting her go.

"What do you have?" Tevos gave her attention to Hiaras who held out her omni-tool. Clearing her console, she nodded to Hiaras to begin the download and glanced through the data. Her eyes narrowed when she saw the vid data and brought it up to see a fuzzy recording of her and Aria in the office. Caught at the moment when they kissed. She wasn't surprised really. Aria's visit was a potential mine her political rivals would not fail to make use of, to try to scrap as much dirt as they could out of it, or spread as much innuendos possible even if they had nothing. She dumped the vid and brought up the rest; mostly information Aria had gathered on Cerberus. Which she had kept from the other representatives. Cerberus was essentially an Alliance problem and the others wouldn't be too happy to have somebody else's bane rampaging in their backyards. The damage and repercussions would be expansive. For the humans, if they failed to nip the problem before it blew up in their faces.

She sat back and eyed Hiaras. Did she look at the data? "To whom was this information given to?" she said as she turned over Aethyta's past remarks about this commando.

"One of the researchers on Thessia, a radical called Jieull," Hiaras saw the flash of recognition in Tevos's eyes. "Does the Councilor know of her?"

More than she wanted to know but Tevos did not say it aloud. "Only that she staunchly supports matriarch Trisio," she closed off the console and keyed the encryption lock. She looked up in surprise when Hiaras stripped off her omni-tool and placed the device before her.

"My omni-tool, Councilor and I am yours to command."

Tevos shook her head impassively, more than impressed with her integrity. "Keep it. I am well aware of your capabilities and this," she touched the omni-tool lightly, "is essentially part of you. I would not cripple one of Aethyta's most capable commandos."

"It is a tool but not essential, there are other gifts I can use," Hiaras corrected softly.

"Of course," Tevos nodded gravely, "but do take it as a token of my regard," she watched as Hiaras tacked the omni-tool to its customary niche on her arm. "Seskia is a private matter I would see to," she continued. "The less said of her, the better." Questions hovered behind the commando's eyes and she smiled approvingly when she said nothing. "What did you do with Jieull?"

"We left her outside C-Sec, unconscious," said Hiaras. "She didn't see our faces."

Lips twitching with amusement, Tevos could well imagine Jieull's reaction when she woke up. Glancing around her office, she wondered if Seskia had removed the bug. No matter, she would run a scan the morrow. "It is late," she sighed and stood up. "We should all retire for the night."

"Would you need an escort, councillor?" Hiaras queried.

"Thank you, no," Tevos declined the offer. Even if Jieull were to think she had a hand behind the assault, she would do well to leave well alone or risk having the ground cut out from under her. Given her circumstances, she was too close to losing everything. All that was needed was a push to tilt her over. She waited till the two had cleared the embassy before locking the outer offices. Hitting another key on her desk, she dimmed the lights in her office before heading out to the skycar parked right on the terrace outside. It was really late and she needed to clear her mind and centered herself. She wished Aria was waiting for her in her apartment as she had done after leaving her office that day. Hurriedly, she pushed away the memories of that night and settled down to concentrate on her driving.

Streaming away in the opposite direction in another cab, Hiaras ran a purge of her own omni-tool, removing recent downloaded data from it. "What're you looking for?" she threw a glance at Sanar who was looking out of the window. "That little scrap you took from Jieull."

"I didn't think you'd notice," Sanar pulled out her credit chip pouch and regarded it sombrely. "A death sentence, perhaps. If I'm right."

"If you can pin a wanted sign on her butt, the better...there, that's done," Hiaras muttered, closing down the omni-tool before slouching down in her seat. "Really looking forward to bed, our transport leaves in the morning."

Silently, Sanar returned the pouch to her pocket. She had forgotten that they were to return to Thessia with Nyrine. It was something she was looking forward to. Nyrine especially, who had spent most of her convalesce researching human and Turian military doctrines, picking out the best disciplines that the recruits could use. In time, they would have troops as capable at assault and holding defensive areas. In time, there would no more TI and Thessia would truly flourish. Visions floated before her enticingly that she hardly noticed that they had reached their apartment until Hiaras nudged her before exiting the skycar.

Leaving her at the door, Hiaras disappeared into the bathroom. Stifling a yawn as she locked the door, Sanar shrugged out of her clothing as sounds of running water came to her ears. A little pang of disappointment ran through her and she turned to the bed, recalling the dance at the nightclub. Had Hiaras decided to put it off? A thought struck her, she turned and headed for the bathroom instead. Though clouds of steam hid some of the sight, the pattern of scars that ran along Hiaras's back raised a shiver. Scars she had of her own but none that told so fiercely of the pain and horror Hiaras had gone through in her long career.

"Took you long enough," Hiaras glanced over her shoulder when she felt tentative fingers on her back, pleased that Sanar was finally initiating the next step. "Could use a scrub back there," she pretended disinterest that didn't fool Sanar one bit.

"Just a scrub?" Sanar ran a tongue teasingly down Hiaras's neck, smoothing her hands around to her stomach and was pleased when she shivered.

"..or more," turning around, Hiaras pulled her closer. "Much more."

* * *

**Author note : This chapter is crock to me but I don't feel like rewriting several thousand words. Apologies.**


	41. Chapter 41

**Words of note**

**TCOG : tactical combat optical gunsights**

**RT : rocket troopers**

* * *

**Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System**

It felt neither heavy nor light. Augmented. Yes, that was what it felt like. As if she had thrice the normal level of strength. She flexed experimentally, made a fist, pulled back her arm and threw out a punch. The metal plate buckled in around her fist. Pulling it back, she examined the site and whistled soundlessly, suitably impressed with the size of the crater left behind on the five inch plating. Servos hummed inaudibly as she turned, lifting her legs one at a time before doing a little jump that lifted her two feet off the deck.

"What do you think?" a soft voice said behind her.

She turned around carefully and shrugged as Liara came up to her. "Need a really good bang to find out," she looked over to the hovering technician standing several meters away, "you up for that?"

His face went red and his hands came up to wag furiously. "Ah, er, not me, captain. Sergeant Harris thought you'd want to run it, he's suiting up now."

Welcomed news to her ears for scuttlebutt among the crew put Harris as the best brawler in Mungo Company. With much of her time revolving around in conferences, thrashing out the mountain of data the probes had sent with Liara and Dorrin, she didn't have any to spare to run her usual drills in the gym. Half hour workouts now and then was not the way to keep herself top of the line.  
Trying out a new, to her, untested power armor was not exactly what she was looking for but it was better than nothing.

Liara regarded Shepard critically. The power armor was akin to a exoskeleton, designed to attach and detach when needed. It had originally started as an expedient to mount heavier weapons and boost ammo capacity for rocket troopers during the Reaper War, with some success. Then, it was bulky with occasional hitches during engagements but the value of the concept was recognised and it was further developed and streamlined into a more modular framework. Hence, the power armor fitted like an integument over the usual armor, with augments on the shoulders, arms, torso and legs. Depending on the nature of the assignments, loadouts were flexible. As it was, with the power armor attached, her bondmate looked somewhat bulked up and taller. Her eyes widened when she saw the armored figure stepping up from the armory, Sergeant Harris she supposed and he reminded her of lieutenant Vega, magnified two times.

She blinked. No, it was just an illusion. The power armor had simply amplified the human's girth, making him twice the size he really was. Solid and squat, he looked formidable and exuded a confident air that he was capable of putting down hordes easily without leaving a smear on his armor. Perhaps her bondmate might end up underfoot at the end of the exercise. As if aware of her thoughts, Shepard winked at her before pointing behind Liara and wagging her fingers. She wanted her helmet on the workcounter, Liara realised and reached for it. Prudent. Pulling down the breather mask and locking it into place, she approached Shepard and helped her to attach it securely to her armor.

"Hot shower and oils after?" she murmured as she made sure the helmet was secured.

"Aw c'mon, it'll be a cakewalk," Shepard protested, a little put out that Liara thought she would get her rump shown to her. "Though I'm all for the shower and oils," she said in a sensual low voice before turning to face Harris.

Her tone evoked memories of the last session they had and Liara smiled. Depending on the amount of time they had before the mission, it was unlikely they would be able to indulge themselves. Stepping back to the workcounter, she leaned against it and crossed her arms. There was no heavy arms firing range on board the cruiser so they wouldn't be able to try out the weapon loadouts. It would have to be a close workout, she decided, watching Shepard conferred with Harris. Her guess was spot on when they stepped out to the landing pad. It was what a few of the crew working at the landing bay was waiting for and they paused in their work to watch the spectacle. Watching a few huddled together, Liara supposed they were making bets. A disposition she found rather curious but diverting. A blip from her omni-tool distracted her and she turned away to pursue the incoming data.

Moving slowly around the landing pad, Shepard exchanged light swings with Harris, getting a feel of the power armor responses. Feeling more comfortable, she nodded to Harris who began to put more bite into his punches that sent tiny tremors down the shock absorbers as she fielded them with her arms. He made several moves to grapple but she evaded them all. There was no way she would allow him to close in, he knew, but he was going to try nevertheless. He struck out again and she evaded an uppercut, dodging the inward hammering punch to her torso, pivoting on her foot to slam an albow into his back. The enhanced armor absorbed most of the force but enough filtered in for him to feel it. Turning quickly, he body slammed into her which made her ears rang for a few seconds as she staggered backwards and she couldn't evade his charge that flipped her over his shoulder and she went crashing to the deck.

_That's a dooozy._

Automatically, she rolled even as that thought flashed through her mind and the fist that was heading for her middle slammed into the deck instead. Springing to her feet, she lashed out with a foot but Harris was equally fast, his large hands caught hold of it. She didn't try to go against the twist that sent her falling down to her front but struck out with the other foot that clipped his knee. His leg gave way slightly and she turned quickly, following it up with a foot strike to his head. In her usual armor, the impact could be shrugged off but the power armor boosted the kinetic energy such that the force was akin to a hammer to the side of a head. As he jerked back, she bent double before lashing out with both feet to send him crashing backwards. Pushing herself up, she bent over him to give him another clout on the head. He let go of her foot and caught that arm before her fist could land.

_Too slow._

In a test of strength, Harris had the upper hand. So she did the other thing she could think of before he could punch her with his other fist, she headbutted him. His head slammed back against the deck and she pulled away in his momentary lapse of concentration, retreating to a safe distance.

"You all right, Gunny?" she said when Harris laid there without moving. For a few seconds there was no answer. Just as she was about to run to him, he stirred.

"You don't happen to have supped with a Krogan recently, did you?" hand to his head, Harris sat up. Not expecting a headbutt, he was unprepared for the sudden bash. Of sorts. His head and neck twinged in protest, "'cause that felt like you got all the pointers down pat." Chuckling, she unlatched her helmet, blowing a sigh of relief at the cool air that brushed against her sweating face. "Not recently, no," she flexed her hand before offering it to him and pulled him up. "It feels kind of dissociate," she held up her gauntleted hand as he removed his helmet.

"Not much finesse in a melee," he understood what she was feeling, clenching his own hand to make a fist. "These outfits are more for enhanced brute strength and fire power. That's why the rocket troopers came up with them in the first place. With no steady feed, they could only use whatever they brought with them. Reaper grunts didn't leave nothing when they go down but bits and squishies. The only stuff they could pick up were a few pea shooters which didn't have much impact against the heavies. The suit slowed the troopers during deployments but with all the extra armaments, they lasted longer. Plus, they could ditch the shells if they need to really leg it."

"A little brute strength might just be the thing," she muttered, thinking of the unknown mutants running around Omega. "I'd say there would be half as much slashing and grappling as there would be shooting."

He nodded grimly, following her line of thought. "Comes in handy if there are Brute like specimens. Not saying you could go toe to toe with one but a good landing," he held up his fist, "in the right place really helps."

"What did those troopers do for parts during the war?" she asked curiously, "I presumed they scrounged around for replacements," she flipped up the empty weapon slots in the left arm gauntlet, trying to decide what loadouts she should bring.

"Slap and stick, spit wads, whatever fits," he said, "buffers and enhancements were makeshift, not fine tuned as they are now. Dry spells are always an incentive to be creative. Have you decided on your toys yet?"

"Tentatively, explosive darts and rockets. You have other recommendations?"

"Unless you're planning to bring them as extra ordnance for the stick, I'd forget the rockets and go for grenades and mines," he saw her incomprehension and explained. "I field tested the rockets myself dirt-side. The targeting software needs further tweaking, they're frustrating dummies whichever way you look at it. Damn near took my own foot off."

"How did the RTs manage to lock in back then?"

"The old A3TCOG," he raised his hands, pretending to aim down an imaginery scope. "Doesn't take much when there's a wall pounding up front. Further out, it's mostly guess work."

"And some luck?" she grinned. "Thanks for the advice and workout Gunny."

"Any time you want more of it, I'm always available, sir," he grinned wolfishly as he threw a salute which she returned before he stomped off to the armory, casting a meaningful glare at the gawping crew who took the hint and picked up where they left off. The wardroom would be filled to the brim with all manner of yarns for the next few days. That was the least of his worries than the mission hovering on the horizon. Probably the worst to date in his book. He looked down and touched the little tiny worn patch under his gauntlet before stripping it off and laid it carefully in his locker. There was still that letter to finish and he had better get to it.

The unsettled air about Shepard raised Liara's anxiety. "Are you not comfortable with it?" she queried anxiously when Shepard returned to the workcounter, flicking back a falling lock of her hair. It needed a trimming, she observed absent-mindedly.

Flexing her hand again, Shepard shrugged. "It's new and I haven't have alot of time to train in it," she frowned, turning her gauntlet hand back and forth before meeting Liara's troubled eyes. "Not saying I'm refusing the extra candies but I'm thinking how much advantage it really offers against what's on that station," she said grimly as she powered down the enhanced armor.

Silently, Liara helped her to remove the power armor, keeping a tight rein on her fears for she empathised with Shepard's misgivings. There was more than ample evidence that there were denizens on board the station, the probes had picked up strange groups moving around and clashes when one encountered another. The composition of each group varied, some were totally human, Asari or Vorcha, the others were a mix. It could be surmised that Cerberus had separated a number of the inhabitants of the same species into specific groups for experimental purposes. The problem was determining exactly what they were, how much intelligence was left in them. That they were dangerous was clear, the ferocity of the fracas was chilling. More often than not, such exchanges left very few survivors. The utmost concern however, was the agility and abilities that were displayed.

"The last data from the probes came in while you were busy," she said as she removed the chest piece. "Omega Control is heavily fortified."

"As expected," Shepard took a deep breath before expelling it nosily, depositing the last piece of her armor on the workcounter, feeling much lighter in her body suit. "That's the only place they could have fallen back to," she braced herself with her arms against the counter, "when they lost control. Getting there will be thrice as bad as storming the Collector Base," she said gloomily. "Any chance of a hack?"

Liara shook her head, dispelling the notion of any such attempt. "The Geth probes are good but I have to hold them outside the perimeter. There is hardly an inch that is not covered with sensors and scanning devices. Setting them off is hardly a good idea."

"Not at the moment, no," chewing her inner lip, Shepard frowned. Sooner or later, they would have to breach the zone. The question was to pick the most optimum time to do it. "We can plan for it for course but like all plans, once out in the field, some just go completely south."

"That is why there is something called plan B," reaching to grab Shepard's hand, Liara pulled her away. There was already too much time spent in deliberations, speculations and brainstorming. Every waking minute ever since they embarked on this mission and she felt she had enough. There was barely 24 hours left before retaking Omega began in earnest and she wanted to snatch a few hours doing something else than collating information and talking about the mission. "Right now, I want plan C."

Her roiling feelings was clear through their link and Shepard knew her bondmate was still extremely upset that she would not be accompanying her on this mission. Biting her tongue to hold back the suggestion that they should update Dorrin, she said instead, "Well, at least let me keep my pristine reputation. How'd it look if I just leave my stuff lying around?"

"Ohh...all right," Liara couldn't help but gave a little huff at the delay but she turned around to help gather up the armor and followed Shepard to the armory. "Mind, there is a plan D."

"Dare I ask what is it?" Shepard cast a teasing look over her shoulder and jumped when Liara suddenly rushed up close to murmur sultrily in her ear and then sauntered away slowly, leaving a slightly breathless dazed bondmate behind as unbidden visions rose to the fore. It was sometime before she realised she was standing outside the armory door staring dreamily into the air. Looking behind her, she could see the interested gaze of the landing bay crew and hastily stepped through the entrance, taking her out of their sight. She could hear Liara softly humming an Asari song somewhere to her right, where her locker was. No doubt pleased with herself.

Plan D? Wait till Liara see what I have in mind for plan A!

* * *

The muted hum of the engines was comforting and familiar. The silence was not but she said nothing as she ran her eyes over the chosen squad of 15 Alliance marines. Out of the lot, Lt Ulros, Sgt Foster and Sgt Harris were the only ones she knew, the rest were relative strangers picked from other units in Mungo Company though she had personal interactions with them during mission briefings. Veterans, all of them were. And all of them had volunteered. Hackett had wanted a picked team but she had argued against it. For this particular mission, she wanted people who knew exactly what they were up against and were willing to do it, not because they were ordered to.

Most them had set faces, their eyes the only clue to what they were thinking and it was clear they had set their sights on getting the job done as best they could. The only other visible signs of anxiety was a slightly jerking leg, drumming fingers, masticating jaws that pulverised sugarless gum over and over again, gnawing on the lip, staring into the air. None of them was inclined to indulge in chatter. They had done all the requisite lollygagging, invoking the usual brew of traditional maledictions on their equipment, the mission and the pestilence that refused to die, back on the cruiser.

Which was pretty much what she had done, with Liara, who was now monitoring the probes on the space station. Unhappy she might be, still, her bondmate had sent her off with threats on the dire consequences of her failing to keep her promises intermixed with all the bulwarking she could think of. Both of them knew the score though and if she really did not make it back, Liara would forge on ahead. At least, that was what she said as they went over the pictures they had taken together in the holo-album. They hadn't even decided on a name for the baby yet, she suddenly remembered. And there was that one other thing she had been holding back for an opportune time. Perhaps she shouldn't be entertaining such pessimistic thoughts. She looked at her chronometer and tapped into the secondary comlink.

"Bristle, update?" she frowned when nothing came over the link. Releasing her hold on the overhead handbar, she made her way to the cockpit. "Bristle, do you copy?" she repeated as she hit the panel to the hatch, stepping into the dim interior lit by active consoles and stopped behind the co-pilot's chair. "What's Bristle's position?"

The co-pilot enlarged the scan display on his console. "Parallel to us, sir, heading to objective," he pointed to the green icon next to theirs.

"Bristle, do you copy?" she tried again and something crackled over the link. What the hell was going on over there?

A rumbling voice filled with stones finally answered. "What'd ya want?" it said surlily.

Krogan? "Put your boss on," she said acidly and bit back a sigh when silence answered her. If this was the type of cooperation she was going to get out of the mercenaries, she'd rather leave them behind or use them as cannon fodder. Either option suited her fine.

A cool voice finally came on. "What is it, Shepard?"

Rolling her eyes, she counted to ten. "Bristle, keep to designated callsigns over communications." The last thing she needed was for an alert Cerberus tech to tap into the channel and prepared a welcoming party for one captain Shepard and friends.

A pause. "Ramrod," came the silky response, "Bristle awaits your command." Aria's voice oozed honey and invitation. A snort, hastily stifled, escaped the co-pilot.

Biting back yet another sigh, Shepard said, "Bristle, splash in 15 minutes. Copy?"

"Bristle acknowledges, ready to splash when you are."

Shepard didn't want to know how Aria managed to convey that much sexuality into that sentence but she could see the effect on the co-pilot who fidgetted slightly. The pilot on the other hand, was too focused on his job to listen in. "Switch to secondary coms after leech. Ramrod out," she said evenly and stared at the second green icon. If Aria could set fires just by voice alone, she didn't want to imagine what kind of chaos would erupt if she went full out in a roomful of grunts.

Returning to the cargo compartment, she swept her gaze across the squad which looked expectantly at her. "Minus 14 to splash, gear check."

A flurry of hands immediately reached for pistols, assault rifles, rocket launchers and sniper rifles, running effortlessly and smoothly over the components, making sure they were working properly. Spare thermal-clips, grenades, rocket pods, darts and knives were next, followed by their armor suits. She did the same for her own, then turned around as Lt Ulros went over her fixtures of her armor and turned back when he clapped her the shoulder. "Ramrod1 go," he affirmed as she began to do the same for him as the muted throb of the shuttle engines died away.

"Ramrod2, go," she said and the rest sounded off as each checked their partners. Those who were seated, stood up in turn to be examined.

The lights in the cargo compartment went amber. "Five minutes," the pilot announced over the shuttle com.

"Batten down the hatches, people," she said, reaching for the full visor of her helmet. The marines followed suit. The gum chewing marine spat out his gum and pressed it to his chest armor before pulling his helmet on, his compatriots said nothing except a few who thumped him on the shoulder. She checked the seal of her helmet and oxygen readouts before tapping into the squad com.

"Com check, sound off," she said, making her way to the exit hatch as the squad responded.

"10 seconds," the pilot said quietly over the comlink. "Good luck and good hunting, sir."

Taking a deep breath, she gestured to her squad who braced themselves even as she grabbed hold of the handbar above her before she hit the vacuum key on the panel above the hatch. The air in the compartment was swiftly sucked out through vents. She reached for another once the compartment was emptied. The hatch opened silently, revealing the enormous greyish metallic expanse of the space station just several meters away. Her helmet visor automatically shielded even as it lit up the target area, slowly coming into view as the shuttle drifted nearer on inertia. The lights in the shuttle turned green.

Turning to give a thumbs up to the rest, she grabbed hold of the sides of the exit door, made sure of her trajectory and launched herself into space. Behind her, Lt Ulros imitated her and propelled himself in the same direction, the others followed after suitable intervals. Keeping her eyes trained on the metal surface, she hit a key on her gauntlet to enable the magnetic tabs in the gloves. Silently, she counted off and reached out as she neared the metal hull, kicking up tiny grey grit storms as her hands and feet snapped down on the surface. Carefully, she stood up, looking back to see the rest made safe landing. Overhead, the shuttle maneuvered away on propulsion jets. The engines would not be enabled until it was at least hundreds of meters away, on a different vector from their position. Turning off the tabs in her gloves, she took a moment to survey the surroundings; the girth of the station curved away from her. With centuries of grit sticking to the hull, it was barely shining. Spread across with magnificence in the inky backdrop was the Omega Nebulae.

"Sound off," she turned to her squad before switching over to the secondary comlink. "Bristle, status?" The mercenary group would have made the same landing as they did, several hundred meters from her own position, if they were successful.

"Bristle1, leech completed. All accounted for," Aria said crisply, not a hint of sultry overtones in her voice.

"Proceed to beach locker 2. Confirm for dip. Ramrod out," she waved to her squad and made her way to the highlighted airlock on her visor. Her boots snicked smoothly on the metal, leaving a wake of drifting grit. It reminded her of the time when she had done EVA through the ruins of a Geth docking tube. The view had been spectacular for the Qurians and the Geth had been engaged in a slug out and she had a grandstand view of the spectacle. Here, there was no fiery displays. The only sound she could hear was her breathing. It took several minutes for them to reach the airlock. As she crouched down by the panel, Ulros parked himself at the front of the hatch while the rest of the squad gathered around loosely.

"Ramrod1 to Eyes," she waited with a tiny smile, knowing who would answer.

"Eyes actual," Liara said immediately.

"Beach locker 1. Good for a dip?" If by ill luck the answer was no, they would have to make for another airlock on another level, just north of them.

"Calm waves, go ahead."

Shepard looked up, made a fist and opened, spreading her fingers before nodding to Ulros who was watching her. The rest took two steps back as Ulros slide his knife out before leaning forward, his omni-tool flashing as he slapped his hand to the hatch. Unlimbering the assault rifle from her back, she stood up, aiming at the hatch. If the scans were wrong and something leapt out, she and Ulros would be the two to take the brunt.

Ulros's omni-tool flashed brightly as the hack was completed. The hatch snapped aside but nothing jumped out at them. Putting away his knife, Ulros armed himself with his assault rifle. Together, they looked in and saw a dimly lit empty airlock. She dropped to a crouch, dialing for the other link.

"Ramrod 1. Bristle, how does it look?"

"Bristle 1. Raring to go for a swim in clear waters," drawled Aria. So far, so good.

"Bristle, you're clear to take a dip. Ramrod 1 out," she nodded to Ulros who gestured to the rest of the squad to gather before stepping past the hatch. "Ramrod 1 to Eyes, going swimming."

"Understood," Liara replied steadily before adding softly. "Be careful."

"Will do."

Last to enter, she closed the outer hatch behind them and stood braced with her rifle. The rest crouched down as two marines planted themselves at the door, rifles held ready as air gushed in. Ulros palmed the inner hatch once air pressure was even. It snapped aside, revealing a long corridor that stretched inwards, dimly lit. The walls on both side showed no alcoves or doors. On her visor, Shepard saw the highlighted bobbing probes floating at the ceiling. Barely bigger than two inches, each probe was programmed to wander throughout the station along the ceiling, thus avoiding detection. In large places, they would float at the bottom, scurrying along like rats which several had encountered. Being inedible, the rats left them alone.

They spread out into the corridor. With prudent spacing between each marine, it was easy to thread her way through the group to the front. The entry they had selected was the closest maintenance corridor to Omega Control, outside Cerberus scanner and sensor range. As such, the threat level was ten times higher than anywhere else on the station for there had been a few assaults on the perimeter, recorded by the probes. If their luck held, they wouldn't be caught in such a wave or ran smack into one of the mutant groups.

At an even pace, they went down the corridor. It was several minutes before they came to a door and a body. Shepard held up her fist, the squad stopped as she bent to examine the desiccated corpse, more skeleton than flesh. Dead for more than a year or so, from the colour of the bones. A human, from the shape of the skull, perhaps a worker, judging from the tattered workclothes. Its ribcage was crushed, as if something heavy had stomped on it. A pistol lay beside its hand. Picking it up, she ejected a spent thermal clip and examined the skeleton more closely. Was that teeth gouges on the top of the skull? Using the pistol, she nudged the skull forward to have a better look. It rolled off, the lower jaw detaching to drop on the lower body, and came to a stop at the opposite wall. Its empty eye sockets seemed to stare reprovingly at her. Ignoring it for the moment, she took another look at the crushed ribs; caved in at both ends and there were marks on the bones. She opened the second comlink even as she turned to speak to the others.

"Ramrod 1. Bad news, gang. Found a body. Confirmed cannibals, probably man-size or larger. Anything at your end?"

"Bristle 1. Nothing yet."

"Coming up to intersection in a few," Shepard turned to look down the corridor where she could see a wall. "Update in twenty, Ramrod 1 out," she slipped out a small slim sticky grenade from one of the pouches at her waist and slapped it on the floor behind the corpse. Enabling her omni-tool, she scrambled the controls of the door the body was leaning against. It led to a utility room and she didn't want to waste time marking it safe. The longer they hung about an area, the likelihood of discovery was highly probable. Flashing another signal, she stood up and continued down the corridor. Whatever it was that trapped the unfortunate man and ate him, she hoped it or they had found better food sources elsewhere. Like one of the mutant groups. That would really make her day.

At the intersection, they paused again. Here, they split into two groups as they had planned. She watched as Ulros led the second squad away. They would try to infiltrate Omega Control from another direction, making it a three-prong attack with the mercenary group. If the plan succeeded, they would get off unscathed but she knew there was no such outcome on this run. At the end of it, how many of them would bite the dust?


	42. Chapter 42

**Words of note**

**a-grav - artificial gravity**

* * *

**Omega, SW Maintenance Corridor, Kiegor District, Residential Sector**

The lights were dimmer as they proceeded along the dingy maintenance corridor, debris was strewn everywhere. The first sign that there had been a struggle was a defensive wall of crates that had been broken through, more skeletal remains and weapons that dropped spent thermal clips. None of the remains, she noted carefully, was freshly stripped. The bones were old, blood pools dried and flaking which meant the incident had taken place years before. Perhaps the corpse near the airlock had been the last survivor of this group. There was no sign of whatever it was that took them out. If it had demolished a group, it wouldn't leave anything behind anyway. The good sign to come out of this site of horror was the thick layer of dust. None had treaded the maintenance corridor since.

So exactly what had rampaged through through the unfortunate group? Of the slew of bones scattered along the corridor, there were no more than four complete skeletons. The rest were scattered every which way. Either those victims were torn apart or something smaller was responsible for the disorder. Like rats. It was amazing the little critters could scurry past security and safety protocols, leading to a galaxy wide diasporas. Of course, human activities like illegal trading and smuggling had helped in their dispersal. Unscrupulous traders and smugglers didn't care if their cargo hold had extra passengers which might posed a health and environmental hazard to other species. Credits was the only thing they understood and craved.

It was perhaps unfair to think that only humans would bring their vermin out with them. The other races had done equal share in spreading their own home pests as well. As if her thoughts were a summons, a eight-legged cockroach like insect raced across the gritty floor, followed by a few others as she stepped over a small broken crate. She supposed there were earthy cockroaches around with their other unearthy counterparts just about everywhere. Yes, definitely, the station was filled to the brim with vermin. Wouldn't it better to just blow the whole damn thing up? That was what everyone wanted. Well, most of them. Removed Omega, gone the roost of the dregs. The danger they represented would also be eliminated but that was, in her view, a temporary measure. Sooner or later, they would sprout up again like weeds. Everywhere. Out of control.

Her visor display flared in warning; a warning from Liara monitoring their progress and keeping watch of the route ahead. She halted immediately, holding up a fist to the squad behind her and she crouched down, studying the scan data Liara was sending to them. They were near the entrance of the corridor, beyond which was Kiegor district which was the the topmost level of Omega. Essentially, they were within the structure of the original mining station; a more enclosed structure than the erratic opened designs of the latter assemblies, that had been constructed centuries before when the rock was broken open to expose the rich eezo deposits. Smacked in the middle was Omega Control and the Cerberus base.

As far as she could make out from the scans, a group of mutants was passing through the street beyond. There were odd protuberances along the arms, reminiscent of arm-mounted cannons of Scions and humps along the shoulders but unlike the upgraded husks, these appeared man-size. A mixed group for she spotted Salarian-like horns on slightly elongated heads. An unknown element. There were no recorded vids of this particular group and she had no idea what they were capable of but she had no interest in finding out. Flicking another signal to the squad, she squatted there in the dark corner behind the broken defense barrier, perfectly content to let them past. They could just slip out after this group had completely gone out of sight.

Her visor flared twice in warning and additional images began to fill in along the perphery, dashing her hopes. Nerves began to tighten as a cacophony of whines and flactuating shrills filled the air as the first group of mutants spotted the second. Stuttering growls rose in answer, sounding somewhat like the snorting gasping grunts of Vorchas. Her suspicion was borne out when the second group approached at a run, passing the probes bobbing above and floating along the street at the edges. Their hands were large claws and were those serrated edges along the arms? Flashes of fire erupted from the arms of the first group. Defnitely, they were Scion-like. The Vorcha were agile, a few were blasted away but others in the first wave dodged the blasts and leapt upon the first ranks of the humanoid-Scions, their claws swiping viciously. Gore splattered.

Taking her eyes away the fight, she gestured to the squad to fall back. They were too near the exit of the corridor. A buffer of several meters would be better. The squad paced backwards slowly as she got up, half-crouched when a wailing howl arose from the sounds of the battle. It became louder, heading her way and instinctively, she rolled. The crates behind her exploded as a body came hurtling through to land in the corridor, sending bones and crates flying. A snarling whirlwind of claws leapt in, flailing away. Gobbets of flesh and blood flew. It raised its head, its mouthful of teeth gleaming. Before it could respond to the presences it was beginning to sense, she was already darting forward. Her fist slammed down on its back, knocking it down and she sent a hard blow into the base of its neck, just below the skull and felt the bones cracked. It dropped silently, like a stone. Quickly, she slammed down another to make sure and gestured to the squad.

They retreated back to the intersection, keeping themselves out of sight in the adjacent corridor. It was just as well they did so for just she checked the live feed from the probes, the fight was still raging and a few of the Vorcha were spilling into the corridor from the street, smashing their opponents through the remaining defense barrier. The humanoid-Scions were putting up a good fight, using their cannon-like arms to smash at their enemies when they closed in. It was just about even, she decided. Their numbers were down to about half and the fight would continue for a while yet. They would just sit tight and wait it out. Just then, her comlink bleeped softly.

"Eyes Actual to Ramrod 1."

"Ramrod 1 go," she murmured. "Update?"

"Ferret is advancing smoothly. Bristle made it to the street but ran into the same problem."

A pit came to settle in her stomach and she hated the feeling. "Opposition components?'

"It looks like the same composition as that first humanoid group but they are split into two opposing groups. Bristle is taking cover but they too, are separated."

"What?!" she said in amazement; she'd thought Aria kept a tight rein on her cronies. "How did that happen?" If the mercenaries were wiped out and Aria didn't make it, it would make their task a little more tougher but she and Ulros would still press on. Removing Cerberus was after all, the primary point of the mission.

"They were advancing too quickly," Liara's faint distaste implied much, "by the time I gave warning." It looked like her misgivings about the effectiveness of the mercenaries, a subject she had disputed over with both she and Dorrin, might be right. It was too soon to discount them however. Aria, after all, wouldn't have picked fools for this mission.

"Right. Let me know if the situation changes," there was nothing she could do really. Ramrod and Bristle were separated by several hundred meters. It was up to Aria to get herself and her people out of the mess. "Ramrod 1 out."

* * *

**Omega, SE Maintenance Corridor, Kiegor District, Market Sector**

It had originally started well enough. Deplorable as it was that she had to fling herself out of a shuttle in order to enter what was her domain, it was interesting, nevertheless. Never before in her long tenure of the space station did she have to gain entry in such a manner. Granted, the view she had was far more breathtaking than standing at a window, looking out. A glorious sight that brought a myriad of sensations, inspirations and a tiny pinprick pique that most of her time was spent in her club with the usual forays into the districts and that it would be a moment of lonely memory. To be shared in the future. She hoped.

The little stroll along the hull also brought back recollections of another time, another space station. Much much smaller but serving the same purpose as Omega, after the Salarians lost control of it to the mercenaries and the pirates. Then, that little stroll had saved her life after a strenuous self-appointed battle against a formidable opponent that left her pockmarked with more wounds than she had ever received from her previous jobs. It had been her choice, a mutual agreement and she didn't regret it. It was by far, the best contest she had ever had in her innumerable encounters. She had been pushed to her limits and beyond but she had been able to walk away. This time, however, she might well be walking to her own destruction.

And it seemed like she had, once she had stepped past the airlock. The view within was what she was mentally prepared for, though perhaps her imagination had not worked hard enough. Corpses she had seen aplenty in her march to her current position but not ones that spoke aloud of their struggle, their fear and their failure to hang on to the life they fought so desperately to retain. Or in such numbers. The corridor was littered almost a foot deep with parts of desicated bodies, bones, spent weapons and debris from broken barrier defenses. It must have been akin to what it had been like on the Citadel when the Reapers took it over but she had never seen it, thanks mostly to her gut instinct that she should leave and find a hideout before they arrived.

The sight had spooked a few in the group, much to her annoyance. Their reluctance to wade through the mess was an affront to their supposed calling and when they baulked, a few choice words with a little spicing was enough to compel them to move. Unfortunately, it also sent the most squeamish of them, Rufio, to plow through without any observance to concealment, running so many steps that set him so far ahead that his cronies chased after for fear of losing him. Leaving her and the other half to tread cautiously behind. By the time they emerged from the corridor and almost caught up to the first half, all they could do when Liara's warning came was to dive for cover in broken down shops on opposite ends of the street.

Even as she kept an eye on the images through the live feed, she quickly examined the shop her group had taken cover in. Like every other shop anywhere, there was space for display racks and a back storage room. Whatever items there were had long gone, leaving no clue as to what merchandise had originally resided within. The upper half of fabricated wall of the storage room was shattered and lay in pieces beneath her feet. All of the display racks in the front room had been torn apart or pulled down. Three of her group were crouched behind the front counter while she and the rest were in the storage room. Given an opportunity, she would pull them out of the back door she had spotted, half hidden by a few fallen racks. Unfortunately, if any of them were to try it, the chance of being seen by the combatants out front was high.

Silently, she fumed, wishing she could get her hands on Rufio. If only that stupid brain spike of a Turian had kept a level head, they wouldn't be caught out in the open and separated, stuck behind flimsy covers, listening to a riot of terrifying sounds that didn't resemble anything she had ever heard before. She could only hope that every single one of the freaks would be wiped out without ever discovering their existence. Chosen more for his skill with his weapons than his ability to think, maybe the idiot would make good use of them before some mutant picked his brains for lunch. If he managed to survive this assignment, she would do more than warp that faceful of tattoos.

She jerked back as the wall she was taking cover behind suddenly shook as explosive impacts went off against it. The discord outside seemed to increase. Both groups had closed in, firing and striking out indiscriminately. Sooner or later, the perimeter of the fight would widen. That decided her, they would take their chances and go out the back door. Before she could tap into the comlink to get both groups to move, the situation that she had wanted to avoid materialised; several of the grappling humanoid-Scions had crashed into the shop Rufio and his cronies were in,  
pinning whoever was behind the front counter.

"Spirits! Get them off!" the comlink cackled loudly as Rufio shouted. Explosions went off, too near to the probes, creating a frizzle of lights. "Argin is down! Damn it!"

She cursed. "Open fire!" she stood up and poured a hail into the freaks as the others began to shoot. "Fall back through the back door! You hear me, Rufio? Pull out whoever's with you!"

"No! Charzar and Fior are still out front!"

Stupid Turian. If he wanted to stay, there was nothing she could do. Her eyes widened when she caught her first clear sight of the mutants. "Pull out now!" she shouted as her fears were borne out; the freaks had barriers and they were no longer focused on fighting each other. All their attention was on the mercenaries. "Now!" she yelled as she ducked and rolled from a biotic cast from the freaks starting in her direction. Half the wall behind her shattered. Her group had already begun retreating and she raised her own barrier as she leapt to her feet and was out the back door as another biotic wave rolled in. The entire inner storage room wall splintered and she nearly fell as the crest of the wave reached past the outer wall to shake the ground outside.

Knowing Rufio, she had an idea what he might do once he realised he was on his own. Without a word, she began running down the alleyway to get away as fast as possible, without bothering to check if any of her group were following. A curse escaped her when she saw the wall to wall crates piled up ahead. Not wishing to expend her energy so early, she made an estimation and cast a throw. The crates on top jumped and toppled over, leaving a gap wide enough for a body three feet up. Good enough. Without slackening her pace, she jumped and dove through, hitting the ground on the other side in a roll and smoothly regained her feet. As she sped away, dodging the piles of debris, a confusion of heavy thuds, thumps and muttered curses could be heard behind her. A smile twitched her lips. Good, at least some of her group were keeping up and they had better do so, she could hear the angry shrills of the mutants and gunfire.

A thunderous explosion suddenly rent the air, sending a fountain of of fiery debris flying everywhere. That would be Rufio. The displays on her visor blanked out for a moment before weakly coming back up again. She halted and turned around as fragments of hard and organic materials rained down. Too busy dodging falling pieces, her squad ran past her without noticing she had stopped. When they realised it, they backtracked to her. She was pleased to find all of them had survived. It would make her task that much easier. Working alone was really her much preferred mode of operation when it came to taking out a target. In this case however, having tokens to place at certain points worked in her favour.

Setting them to defensive positions, she waited patiently from her vantage point; the roof of a prefabricated shop, peering down the scope of her M-13B Raptor sniper rifle. It felt just like old times, the moment of the hunt, when the prey was at hand. Her lips thinned as the first of the pursuers came into sight. It didn't look anything like a human, more of a Salarian but so twisted that she wouldn't have recognised it as such if not for the horns on its head. Time seemed to freeze as she squeezed the trigger. The first shot impacted against its barrier, the following salvo pierced through and its head exploded. Its compatriots shrieked their fury and began to run. At that, the mercenaries cut loose with a barrage. Packed into that small back lane, the mutants were hampered by one another, increasing their agitation. The ones behind casted their biotics blindly, ending up rending the ones in front into pieces before they went down themselves.

"Cease firing!" she said as she peered through her scope. The sight was satisfying. All the freaks were down and there was nothing else beyond their bodies. Peering over the edge of the roof, she frowned when she saw the disposition of the men and said icily, "Good dusting. Now if anything takes a shot at me while I'm busy, you boys are going to regret it." At that, those below hurriedly widened the defensive perimeter instead of standing around, gawping at her. She tapped into her helmet comlink as she watched them. "Bristle to Eyes." Silence.

"Bristle to Eyes," she repeated. Where was that T'Soni brat? If she been watching all the while, she should know it was safe for communications. Why had she remained silent? They couldn't remain where they were. That explosion would have caught the attention of any freaks within the vicinity. Without T'Soni acting as sentry, the chances of her men surviving was nil, especially since they were down to half. "Bristle to Eyes," she glanced at the ceiling, searching for the probes and realised there was none. What in the name of the Goddess had happened to them?

No wait. What did that fool brought with him? Didn't her visor displays blanked out for a while? Damn that Turian. EMP grenades of course. How could she have forgotten? That meant the probes that had been shadowing them were destroyed. Liara would be pulling more probes towards them but they couldn't hang around for them. As if her thoughts had conjured them, she heard faint wails. That decided her. They would have to move.

* * *

**Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System, SSV Glasgow**

An icon on the display went red, then another. Quickly, she toned down the overloaded receptors on the probes as a firefight erupted between the mercenaries and the mutants, directing the tiny devices to pull back even as she wondered what was going to happen to the second group of mercenaries whose cover was blown. The chances of them making it out was slim. She had counted at least a dozen mutants converging and directing their attack on the shop. She bit off an exclamation when several icons went dark. The probes had been wiped out. How?

"Dr T'Soni?" one of the assistant techs said from his station as she frantically pulled up the readouts of the last couple of minutes; she wouldn't want the same thing to happen to Shepard. The radius of the backout was huge when she checked for the next lot of live probes. "There was a EMP surge prior to the disruption. I think it originated from the mercenaries."

"EMP?" she repeated in confusion before it dawned on her that the besieged mercenaries must have ignited their ammunition. For that many probes to be destroyed, it would have been the entire arsenal they were carrying. A last act of defiance? Aria's last? Somehow she doubted it. "Decker, Trista, transfer a quarter of the probes in your sector to D3. Let me know once you have a clear signal."

"Yes, Dr," the techs responded, bending over their consoles.

After a check on the vid at the maintenance corridor at the residential sector, she enabled the comlink. "Eyes actual to Ramrod."

Shepard's immediate answer was a relief. "Ramrod. Update?"

"Lost contact with Bristle. EMP blowout, eyes disabled at D3. Rerouting," she knew Shepard was weighing alternatives and possibilities when she didn't answer immediately.

"Any sign of detection by Lerna?"

"No movement," she examined the screens focused on the Cerberus base and it looked just as tightly buttoned up. "If they have detected the explosion, their security measures would have gone up another notch."

"Noted. How many out front at the street at my end?"

Transferring and enlarging the vids of the maintenance corridor, she grimaced at the sight of the victorious mutants dining off the bodies. Unable to differentiate which was which, she supposed it made no difference to them either. "15 are congregated at the entrance and within the corridor."

"Yeah, having a snack," Shepard squinted as she leaned slightly out from her cover, magnifying her targets at the corridor on her visor. "Confirm 15?" she signaled to the snipers to move up and another to the rest for a sustained barrage. The marines took up positions and waited as they selected the targets in their sights.

"Confirm. Zone is clear."

Working her way up front where she would have a clear shot, Shepard made sure she had a steady sighting, she ignored the grisly spectacle in her scope and grimly took aim. "Open fire."

As Liara watched, four of the mutants were immediately taken down, shot through the heads. The rest took hits to the shoulders and necks, staggering back as more shots impacted. Singularities blossomed among the rest, lifting another six more helpless. These fell and the last dropped just as it brought up its arm cannon. "All targets are down," she said and looked up in surprise when the lights throughout the deck turned amber, the floor glowed blue in response as the a-grav system went offline.

"Action stations. All decks, condition one. Condition one," the VI announced.

On her console, a small vid window opened up. "Dr T'Soni, status of Asunder?" Dorrin queried, eyes tensed.

"They are in phase one. We lost contact with Bristle due to a EMP discharge and we are taking steps to reestablish the link. Captain, what has happened?" she said anxiously. There was only one reason why the cruiser would go to battle stations. Would the teams be recalled? Or would they carry on?

"Sensors picked up a silhouette that made translation via the relay a few minutes ago. There's a probablity it's the rogue Normandy class frigate," he looked aside for a moment. "We'll update you as soon as we received confirmation. Tell Shepard we might have to call it off."

* * *

**Deck One, CIC, SSV Glasgow**

In other circumstances, it would be the proverbial needle in a haystack. Back when the stealth systems of the old SR1 Normandy was being tested in the final stage, none of the ships taking part in the exercise had been able to detect the frigate. Proving that the experimental drive core was viable and most of all, setting an amiable accord between humans and Turians. The frigate had been touted as the symbol of peaceful cooperative technological achievement between them. Now, instead of residing in its final resting place, it had been resurrected as the vanguard of a hated adversary. Officially, it was designated the Blackguard. An apt name and it was fortunate he knew exactly what it was after.

"Transfer last known vector of the Blackguard to the Normandy," said Dorrin as he read the incoming data on the holo-display. "Have the Ain Jalut matched a parallel course," he added as Commander Canning looked up from his console.

"Flight decks are ready, sir. The Titian and Ranoch are standing by."

"Tell the evac shuttles to get to the EZ now and stay doggo."

He debated again whether he should pull Shepard and the teams out. Right then, it was only one rogue frigate but he doubted it was just on a tour of the system. No, Cerberus had sent it to take a look at Omega and other elements of their forces was probably on their way. The question was, what would they send? Right now, the Glasgow was parked between Omega and the fuel depot. Easy enough for the Blackguard to detect. Would they think the Alliance had only sent a lone cruiser to sniff around their former base? How good were their intelligence gathering? Did they know about Operation Asunder? Or was this just coincidence?

He looked at the chronometer. Minutes had gone by and no word from the frigates. It was only impatience, he knew but he wished they could hurry up about it. That was something he had noticed about himself since the end of the war; an increasing tendency to rouse to temper. So far, he had reined himself in before it broke loose but he had wondered when the breaking point would come when he would simply just explode. Thus far, he had taken the opportunity to bounce something off against Shepard whenever they came together. As a fellow officer, she could empathise with him and he was appreciative of the fact that she was willing to listen. A lifesaver she was. She and Liara. They made a great couple. If only some hardheaded idiots back home would just get over their prejudices, they would see it too.

"Relay coming online!" one of the bridge techs said aloud, reeling him back from his distracting thoughts. "Reading one vessel made translation."

Dorrin waited, drumming his fingers on the console before him, waiting for the shoe to drop. It would have to be something big, he was sure.

"Scan matches that of a Turian dreadnought, sir."

"Designate as Tango," Dorrin said cripsly.

"They sent their heavyweight," Canning cocked an eyebrow at the new icon on the holo-display.

"I'm guessing they're here for the same reason as we are," Dorrin nodded towards the Omega icon. "A ship of that size can carry a bellyful of nasties. Any word on the Blackguard?"

Checking his data, Canning shook his head. "Nothing, sir. They would have spotted us by now. Orders?'

"We saw the big bad wolf so...we must tuck our tails in and run," Dorrin grinned at Canning. "Plot a course for Omega. Notify Normandy and the Ain Jalut," he hit the shipwide com. "This is the captain. All decks, braced for gravity fluctuations. Helm, break vector at first sight of the Blackguard, zero-one-five, one-zero-eight."

"Aye, sir."

_Come on, you bloody SOB. Nice fat target here. Take your best shot._

Dorrin eyed the holo-display intensely. The green icon of the Glasgow shifted away from the fuel depot, moving towards the space station as the two green icons shadowed her path. The red icon of Tango was right behind it but the dreadnought was too far away to launch any effective strike and they would think they wouldn't if the Glasgow continued to run. Dorrin was willing to bet that wasn't what they were planning on. Several minutes passed by. Just about right. He nodded to Canning.

"Tell Ranoch to make translation now." Canning turned away, bending over a com tech.

"Contact! Aft starboard!" A fresh red icon blossomed on the holo-display. Blackguard had shown itself and there was only one reason it would do that.

"Helm!" Dorrin barked but the pilot was already making the course change. He watched as the Normandy and the Ain Jalut made an immediate beeline for the Blackguard. Had it fired? The deck trembled slightly beneath his feet in answer even as he grabbed the console as gravity wavered in response to the abrupt course change. "Damage report."

"Glancing blow, sir," said Canning. "Normandy and Ain Jalut are on Blackguard's tail. Ranoch made translation and are launching fighters. Tango has seen them, they're coming about."

Time to close the trap and hurt Cerberus. A prospect he looked forward to. "Helm, come about. Line in for Tango. Tell Titian to launch their ships," he said with relish, as numerous green incons spewed forth from the fresh green icon of the Geth dreadnought. Another friendly lit up near the fuel depot. Titian, an Alliance carrier. More greens emerged, heading straight for Tango. His hands clenched as the enemy also launched their own fighters. It was going to one hell of an ugly fight. The icons merged.

"Sir, we have confirmed sightings of Occulus," Canning said tightly.

"How many?"

"Perhaps a dozen."

"Inform the Normandy and Ain Jalut. If they could expediate, do so," shoulders hunched, Dorrin contemplated the holo-display. The odds of the Cerberus Occulus making an appearance had been taken into account. However, not knowing what sort of upgrades they had, a single fighter might not have much impact. If the Geth and human pilots followed orders, they would lure the Occulus within the range of the heavy guns of the dreadnought. That was the least of his worries. With any luck, Tango was just the one hammer Cerberus saw fit to send. If there were more on the way, they would have to withdraw for these were all the forces that Hackett could commit to this mission. If it came to that, he fervently hoped there was time to extract Shepard and the teams. If not. He shied away from that thought and concentrated on the current situation. The cruiser was in range.

"Launch fighters."


	43. Chapter 43

**Words to note**

**bat-turn - A tight, high-G change of heading.**

**CBT - Cyclonic Barrier Technology**

**furball - confused engagement with many combatants**

* * *

**Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System, SSV-SR2 Normandy**

It wasn't an encounter he was expecting. No, that was not true. He was half hankering for it the moment he learnt they were going to swat Cerberus from Omega. No way were those dogs going to quietly let themselves be evicted from a roost that large, even if they had failed to keep a clean ledger. If he were them, the moment they scent what was up, they would scream for help. And help was just but a relay jump away. Or so it was thought. They just didn't arrive where he thought they would be. It didn't matter though. They came and he knew it wasn't going to be an easy fight when sensors picked up a chilling silhouette. A slippery silhouette. One that he knew very well.

His hands tapped a swift dance over the controls as he fought to get a bead on the target. He had been eyeballing it the moment it revealed its position when it heated up its main gun to punch out the Glasgow and he hadn't looked away since. This was one bandit he wanted to swipe very badly for months now. Right from the moment he heard that the scumbags had dared to loot every single bolt and rivet of a ship he had laid his his own life for and cost that of his former commanding officer. If he hadn't stupidly insisted on saving the old Normandy, Shepard wouldn't have to come get him. She had saved his life and lost her own in the process. The ship should have remained where it was. With his fallen crewmates. A monument for all they had stood for.

_Damn you, damn you._

He snarled inwardly as the rogue frigate dodged a shot from the Ain Jalut, no more successful than him in getting to paint the hull. Whoever was piloting the Blackguard had to have taken several hard lessons in bat-turns, denying him any chance of a clear shot. Inhuman. That was what it was. The turns and maneuvers carried out would have flipped the drive core systems inside out. Hell, didn't the pilot care? Unless they had some sort of gravitic upgrades or glued themselves to their seats and workstations, no way the crew within weren't bucking like ping pong balls which he was trying not to do with his own ship. His current skipper, while appreciative of his piloting skills, would not take kindly to it.

"EDI, are you reading any lifesigns in that bucket?" he banked the frigate, again, to follow as his quarry cockscrewed into a different vector.

"Like I said Jeff," EDI said patiently with a slight hint of pique for that was the ninth time he threw her the question, "it is using an unusual CBT barrier. With the way it is pushing its onboard systems, there is too much heat shedding for me to get a clear reading."

"Damn it, haven't you hacked into the thing yet?"

"I am working on it."

Dancing his fingers over the controls, he slewed the Normandy into a port turn in anticipation of the bandit's intended course and fired off a shot. His frustration went up another notch when it just missed the bow of the Blackguard by mere meters. Damn it, what would it take to nail it down? One fact he did know was that it wasn't going to leave any time soon. It could have easily made it to the heliopause of the system and go FTL but it didn't. It would not, not with its pal still in the system. Sooner or later, it would have to backtrack. His eyes flicked to the streaming data displayed on another panel. The Turian dreadnought was taking a pounding but so were the allied fighters.

Biting his lip, he hit the comlink to CIC even as he made another course change to keep the bandit in sight. "Sir, requesting permission to switch to secondary objectives?"

Several seconds went by, he could picture the frown on Captain Votik's swarthy face, before a mild reply came. "Getting too hot?"

"The way I see it, sir, this gopher won't come to heel till we lay out some greens."

Another pause. "Go ahead, Lt," then came a shipwide announcement that brought a brief grin to his face. "All decks, bag in, no tour available till the bugs are gone."

Yeah, the skipper's got that right. Muttering under his breath, he sent a signal to the Ain Jalut and laid in another course. The Normandy peeled away, heading towards the battling dreadnoughts. Behind it, the Ain Jalut continued the chase, the Blackguard dodged another shot by its former sister ship and veered off on a tangent when it suddenly did a tight roll that brought it right behind the Normandy. Unable to duplicate the turn, the Ain Jalut did a high yo-yo and the distance beween them widen.

"He's on your six, Joker," the pilot of the Ain Jalut rasped. "Loose leash. He's pushing it."

"Got it."

It went without saying there would be incoming fire and he was prepared for it. His console flashed in warning but he was already breaking the Normandy's vector to dip 'down' from the Blackguard's flight path, dodging the shot that was fired, and then back across. He didn't try to skew too far out. That would have defeated the purpose of his abandoning his role as pursuer. Again and again, he waved the red flag as both ships rapidly approached the hot zone, with the Glasgow coming up on his sensors. There were flashes of fire all around it as a few Occulus and Alliance fighters dueled furiously.

"Their firewalls are partially down," announced EDI, pausing for a moment. "They have an A.I. running defense."

No surprise there. "That's cutting it close. Give it a kick somewhen, babe," he opened up the comlink again. "Box-fox in two minutes, sir."

"Call it, Lt," said Votik.

Eyeing the chronometer and the tactical display, he hit the comlink to the cruiser on the mark, chanting, "Box-fox. Box-fox," as the Normandy crossed a few thousand meters at a high vector from the Glasgow. Three fighers launched from the flight deck of the cruiser. Like hounds that scented prey, they latched onto the Blackguard that had turned yet again, this time aiming for the cruiser. No doubt intending to remove it from the equation. They met it head-on. Before the rogue frigate could change course to escape the fighters, the pilots fired their disruptor torpedoes. EDI chose to strike at that moment, breaking through the final firewall barrier to send through an overwhelming stream of data that clogged the defense system.

The torpedoes struck the CBT barrier at close range, damaging a few high-frequency sensors and emitters and leaving scorched marks on the hull. In response, the barrier reverted back to the shield array. Instead of swinging away, the rogue frigate seemed paralyzed, continuing on its course. The pilots fired off another lot of torpedoes as the Normandy came barreling in, Thanix cannon active and slicing. The torpedoes punched through the kinetic shields. The frigate staggered and then broke into half, venting atmosphere and debris as the beam from the Thanix cannon cut through as the Normandy flew across. On its trail, the Ain Jalut did a victory roll.

He didn't cheer. Neither did the crew in CIC when he anounced the Blackguard was down. Instead, he turned his attention to the hot zone as the Gardian turrets from the Glasgow finally nailed the last Occuili that was harrassing it. There were still several slashing away at the Geth dreadnought. Cruisers could carry no more than 15 interceptors and fighters. A carrier could carry eight times that number, the Geth dreadnought had ten times that but then, they were not organics and could squeeze as many as they liked. Two hundred and eighty-five mosquitoes to buzz around the Turian dreadnought that was dwarf by its Geth counterpart. Perhaps an overkill. To him, there was no such concept when it came to Cerberus. Not with 40 Occulus, well less now, running havoc along with the surprisingly few number of enemy interceptors and fighters. Why there were so few was puzzling but the Occulus more than made up for the missing numbers.

Rotating the tactical readout of Tango, he wished the Geth had managed a crippling shot when they had emerged from the trans-relay corridor. Although it was not the optimum broadside presentation, they were at a diagonal vector behind the Turian dreadnought with just a distance slightly less than ten thousand kilometers. With the enemy caught with its pants down, they took the opportunity and fired their main gun artillery, sending a volley that impacted above the stern of the dreadnought that was already turning to face the threat from behind. At that range, the kinetic barriers of the Turian dreadnought absorbed less than a quarter of the force that penetrated through the hull but did not put it out of action.

If only the shot had inflicted greater damage, their own losses would have been greatly reduced. As it was, Tango was showing signs of the onslaught from the fighters, Ranoch and the Glasgow. Half of its Gardian turrets were out of action and their fighters were down to a quarter. The Occulus were more stubborn and inflicted the most casualties among the pilots. None had managed to slice through the hulls of either capital ship, heavy defense turrets and as equally persistent pilots had seen to that. The Geth were doing well, preventing the swarm from overwhelming the Ranoch's defenses but they couldn't keep it up forever. With the Ain Jalut, he brought the Normandy into the fray. Time to finish off those murdering globes.

* * *

**SSV Glasgow**

The deck beneath her feet seemed electrically charged. For a moment, she thought she could feel the force of the the mass accelerators onboard the Glasgow at work as it fired on the enemy dreadnought. It was only the heightened tension of the moment, she knew. With everything happening all at once, her nerves were sharpened edges. As with everyone else's on the deck. So thick was the atmosphere that she fancied it could be cut with a knife.

"It is all right," she bent over her console, "according to Dorrin, the Turian dreadnought cannot last much longer," she carefully checked the scans from the probes again. "The street is clear."

"Right," Shepard kept all inflections of anxiety out of her voice. "Still no word on Bristle?"

"They moved from their last known position which is a hotbed of activity now," said Liara, watching the mass of mutants that had gathered to dine on the remains in the shops at the market sector. "Trying to locate them will take a while longer."

"Let's hope they didn't run into more problems," Shepard's tone belied that notion though. "Stay in touch," she eyed the empty street and waved to the squad to proceed, inspecting the looming exterior of the domiciles. At its heyday, they had housed the numerous workers that mined the eezo of the asteroid before they were taken over by a different sort of denizens with less than honorable intentions centuries later. Now, they were a haven for lurking menaces.

With most of the street lamps out along this particular stretch, there was plenty of darkness to cloak the squad. Unfortunately, it also offered the same advantage to any plausible mutants they had not seen thus far. For this reason alone, Shepard had the squad examined every inch of their surroundings before advancing every meter. A close look at a street lamp revealed it had been shot out. Deliberately? Collateral damage? The ubiquitous debris; hard materials and organic, offered not the slightest clue other than that the residents had fought. It would be the same story all over the space station. The difference was that the probes had more or less effectively identified where the Adjutants were not; there seemed to be none on Omega.

She didn't think there was any, saved for the lot that the Illusive Man had used to remove Aria. No, he bred them for a couple of purposes. One of which had allowed him to achieve his aim of assuming control over the space station. After which, what he did with the Adjutant project was anybody's guess. It was doubtful he would destroy them. Or wouldn't he? She had the suspicion the Adjutants were another one of his explorations into production of mass troops. If it had been successful, they would have encountered them during the Reaper War but they did not. However, she couldn't write them off. Her only hope was that if they really were loose on Omega, they were roaming elsewhere and that Cerberus had somehow, managed to confine them to the lower levels even if the thousands of probes they had released days earlier picked up not a single image of their existence.

A tiny hiss from one of the scouts brought her to the alert even as a warning flashed on her visor. The squad froze.

"Hostile, Eleven-O, far window," came the low murmur from the lead scout, Hendriks. "Looks like a humanoid husk perched on the wall." Glued to it was more like it as he stared at it, its eerie dead blue eyes gleaming in the dark. That was what had given it away.

"360, spot spot for chums," she turned her head slowly, searching the opposite facade of the residential block before running her gaze along the street. Across from her, one of marines did the same for her side.

"Ramrod 3, two at Four-O," said another. "No movement."

"Ramrod 5, one at Two-O, one at Three-O. Two-O is shifting, seems to be eye-balling us."

Four husks. Mentally, she pictured their locations. Advance sniffers? Had they spotted the squad? Were they maneuvering to attack? How many others were there? Quickly, she turned over her options.

"Stay frosty," she said softly. "Bead targets. Fire at will on strike, fall back to first position."

Silence fell as the marines lined up their weapons on their targets. Minutes ticked by as they crouched there, along the street. Muscles began to stiffen but they moved not an inch nor did they take their eyes off the husks that remained as still as they. What were they waiting for? Hendriks stared until his eyes began to hurt but still, he kept them pinned on the husk above him. When it finally did move, he nearly sagged with relief.

It turned its head, looking down the street as it uttered a low gutteral snarl that was answered by the other three. With great dexterity, all four began to clamber across the facade of the buildings. The husk Hendriks was eyeing made a long leap across to join its companions, barely making it to the other opposite wall. Scrabbling furiously, it managed to grapple on firmly before it slide off. All four disappeared round the corner. Still, Shepard didn't release their stance until Liara flashed an all clear. Heartfelt unvoiced relief passed through the group though they didn't let down their guard. Were there only four?

As if reading her thoughts, Liara said over the comlink, "There are insufficient probes to cover the entire block but the buildings you are at are empty for now. Street is clear for a hundred meters."

"All right, move out," Shepard waved to the squad. The marines stood up slowly, shaking their legs to loosen stiff muscles before resuming their advance. Looking at her chronometer display on her visor, she realised only thirty minutes had gone by. Only thirty? It had felt like hours, nerves stretched thin at the wait to see if a horde of husks would descend on them. Since there were only four, they could be scouts for a larger pack or surviving remnants from another group. Either way, they would just have to prevent a get-together. The odds might not be in their favour.

_Too grim, girl. If every corner you turn is that dark, you're never getting out._

She gave herself a little shake. Checking their progress on the map, she grimaced. They still had three-quarters of the route to cover and no way of speeding it up. She could only hope the dogs would stay quiet for a time and let them finished their jobs before trying to send more ships to acquire Omega. For surely they would think twice now that their 'rescue' ships were taken down by the Alliance. Such a premise was not reliable however. But, if they were successful, Cerberus might have second thoughts and write off Omega once they saw the results of the operation.

Liara had said nothing of the mercenaries, presumably she was still searching. She wondered how Aria was doing.

* * *

**Omega, Kiegor District, Market Sector, Plaza**

Perimeter? Plaza? Frowning, she scanned through the scope of her Raptor as she crouched behind the highest pile of debris she could find in the street. The amount of junk piled in the plaza was so high, she couldn't see the other side. That was not the worst of it. Most of the lighting was blocked out, leaving huge black gaps that revealed nothing, no matter what visual enhancement she tried. The best possible places to run into lurking trouble. She glanced up at the ceiling again, zooming in as far as her visor could go. Still no sign of those probes. That didn't make any sense, there should be some in this area. Were they floating around somewhere near the floor?

They had made it through the first quarter of the market sector largely due to the fact that nearby mutants would be drawn to the source of the incidental firefight. It would not be so easy for the rest of the route. Without those probes, they were blind, isolated and extremely vulnerable. So where exactly were they?! Something small ran over her feet, distracting her. Looking down, she spotted the ample hindquarters of a rat disappearing into a burrow hidden in the shadows of the debris.

Lips curling, she looked once more into her scope before dropping off her perch. It would have to be the perimeter. That rat was another reminder. Having something grabbed her from below was not on her itinerary. The remainder of her men voiced no objections when she lined out her intentions and followed as she made her way out of the defilade, cautiously looking in every corner and shadow. With half their number gone through the folly of one of their own, they had no intention of adding to it. Making it to the end was their ultimate goal.

The plaza was reminiscent of those found on Thessia; nonagon-shaped with inward designed arches cut into the flooring and flowing curving pillars. Not unusual considering it was an Asari mining station built to accomodate Asari personnel. Since then, it had been turned into a trade bazaar for the smarter set of retailers who dealt only with exclusive and special goods. The place to go to if one had the right sponsors, credits and negotiate with relative safety under the umbrella of merchantry creed that none would leave empty-handed from the tables. Other than that, it was like any other markets in the other districts.

Stepping carefully, making use of every cover she could find, she made her way eastward where there were several entrances leading to the lower passages that connected with the main shafts of the original mines. To get into one of the main corridors leading to Omega Control, she would have to follow the perimeter north-east and then finally westward. A round-about hike but there wasn't much of a choice. Once she got there, hopefully, there would be probes about for her to cobble up a comlink with Shepard and the rest. Right then, her com range was limited to several meters. Good enough to keep her men in line. A muttered expletive brought her head around to see one of her mercenaries, Aziz, shaking a foot in disgust, having stepped on a gluey puddle of muck, and rubbing the dirtied sole against a broken crate to scrap it off.

At times like this, she wished her old guard had survived but most of them had perished in the attempt to throw off Cerberus years ago and then, lost when she was forced to leave. This sorry lot with her were of the lowest calibre, the sort one threw to take the brunt of the wave mainly because they had little else to lose. Not something she cared to talk about with Shepard when they discussed the compositions of their groups for the operation. The human wouldn't had let her on the station if she had known. Worst, if she had insisted, Shepard would probably make her part of a little Alliance clique. No one had pushed her buttons for hundreds of years now and she wasn't about to turn back the clock.

Turning her attention back to her intended route, she picked her way over a mound of bones, noting in passing, the tiny gleams on what looked like cartilage on a few bones reflecting off the tiniest rays of light filtering through the piles of junk. It took several seconds before it registered. Cartilage. Shiny cartilage? Her eyes darted all around. Mound of bones with shiny cartilage next to a junk pile. Puddles of muck that looked fresh, next to another junk pile. It was adding up to something she didn't like. Eyeing the darkness around the little hills of junk which she was now sure served an ominous purpose, she enabled her comlink even as she stepped up her pace, foregoing any likely places that offered cover.

"We're behind schedule, so pack it up," she injected icy annoyance, "the next person to get fastidious over his boots gets the clean up job."

There was no answer of course but she expected them to respond suitably. The scuff of boots over her helmet pickups was both gratifying and worrying. If they could get to to the nearest entrance of the lower passages without any mishap, it was imperative that she tried to locate one of those probes. If she couldn't, she might have to carry out the most drastic step she had been considering. Leaping lightly up a slight incline of debris, she spotted the interior wall of the space station. Finally, the perimeter. An easy march to the nearest lower passage entrance.

Just as she was about to step off, a loud clatter resounded behind her. On looking back, she saw one of the men, a Batarian, picking up his rifle. The sight riled her. How clumsy could they possibly be? On any other day, he would be chewed out mercilessly, incompetence was intolerable. His luck that they were in a hazardous territory with no luxury of time for her to tear a strip off him. She would have to put it off. That thought fled within seconds when the human mercenary next to the Batarian screamed as something snaked out of the shadows like a whiplash to latch on to his lower calf. By the time any of them could react, he had vanished into the the shadows.

The terrified screams and tearing sounds galvanised the rest to snap out of their shock to start running. By then, she had already leapt over the debris and heading towards the wall. It offered the only guide to the safer, she hoped, lower passages. No way was she going to run through those piles of junk that spouted the mysterious creature. She had no idea what had taken one of her men but she wasn't about to hang about to find out. The rest could either keep up or die, there was hardly any time to tell them what to do. Dread creapt up her spine as low growls filtered in through her helmet pickups. They sounded like the rolling gnarls of varren. Did Cerberus experiment on animals too?

She didn't see it coming but something told her to roll and she did, avoiding a leaping body that sprang through where she was. Nor did she bother to stop to take a look at what it was, she bounced to her feet and continued her run, hearing gunfire erupting behind her as the mercenaries shouted to one another and began to shoot. Yowls and angry snarls rang out as the shots impacted. Several meters from the wall, she changed her direction slightly. Would the doors of the nearest entrance she had just spotted be locked or opened?

To her immense relief and anxiety, the doors were opened when she reached them. Beyond was another dimly lit debris strewed corridor. Was it better to go in or stay out? "In here!" she turned to shout before dashing in, arming herself with her pistol. Halting several meters in, she turned and crouched, aiming at the doors. One of the mercenaries ran in, then another, panting heavily as they reached her and turned to aim their own rifles at the entrance. Another three ran in. The fourth screamed as he was overwhelmed at the doors. She threw a singularity that caught both victim and attackers, swirling them in the air. Twisting them about that they formed a confusing jumble of bodies and limbs.

Four legged? Animals? That was all she could register of the attackers for all she got was snouts and teeth that were latched to their victim. To her horror and incredulity, more streamed in past the singularity. That's impossible! "Fall back!" she shouted, rising to her feet. Needing no further encouragement, her men followed her down the corridor. Grabbing a grenade from one of her munition pouches, she twisted her upper body and toss it over the heads of the men. It exploded, inflicting injuries on several of the pursuers. The level of yowls and snarls went up another pitch, almost fevered with rage. Another grenade exploded in their midst. Then another. Still, they came on. She risked a peek behind and regretted it. Was there no end to them? How many were there? Had she made an error in judgment in trying to escape through this passage?

The corridor curved. They were coming up to the old security check points, beyond that was the decontamination chambers and then lifts down the mining shafts. That was then. The function of the lobby remained but the chambers were converted into a holding cum temporary warehouse for holdover goods. What had they become now? If there were no obstructions, they might be able to make their getaway in one of the lifts. Another explosion went off behind. The volume of the howling mass behind them seemed to fill the entire passage. It also infused her entire being with fear. Her men could not keep running indefinitely and neither could she. It was all too likely they would go down if their escape route was blocked.

A curse escaped her when the lobby came into sight. No doors. No counters. Nothing but a dark grey patch. It wasn't a lobby, it was a Goddess-forsaken wall of rubble! Angrily, she turned around, her body glowing as she gathered her biotics but did not cast. Instead, she waited. Labouring for breath, the mercenaries turned and lifted trembling arms. Lobbing grenades and firing off their rockets, they poured everything they had into the charging mass. Bodies shattered, blood and innumerable pieces of flesh flew. The passage became a slaughter house as the floor turned marshy but still they kept coming.

One of the men shouted as somehow, two came through the barrage to leap on him, teeth flashing for his head and throat. She cast a throw to keep them off but to her astonishment and horror, it did not seem to affect them. Incredibly, his helmet cracked. Twisting, he fell with his finger still on the trigger of his rifle. The stream of slugs killed one of the mercenaries. Engrossed with the bombardment, the rest did not realise what had happened. Using her pull, she dragged the dead mercenary's rifle to her and shot at the two animals ravaging the body. Only to find that it took several salvos to kill one. She looked up and knew why there seemed so little reduction to the numbers. Somehow, they had been augmented, making them more resistant to gunfire.

There was no other option. Gathering her biotics, she sent out a massive wave that staggered the mass. Several went down. Was that wavering? Concentrating, she sent out another. Several more dropped in the continuous curtain of fire. How long could she keep it up? Grimly, she sent out a third and a fourth wave. The remaining pack seemed to go into a frenzy. Panting, she retreated as they pressed forward. How many were there? How many? Gritting her teeth, she prepared for one last wave. There was no more strength in her to cast any more. It was the end as she knew it.

_Sorry, Tevos. I guess I can't keep our next appointment._

Something flashed by. Then another. A black mass suddenly fell in front of her. Where did it come from? Shaking her swimming head, she looked again. Krogans? No, Vorchas. The scene before her swam, a wild furball of so many movements she could hardly make out what was what. Blinking rapidly to clear the mists from her eyes, she finally saw it was both and a mixture of humans, leaping and laying about with viciousness into the pack. But how were they doing it? And why were they glowing so? Before she could follow that train of thought, a hard hand wrenched her around and she found herself down on the floor, staring up at a familiar face. An Asari face. Her heart dropped when she saw the cold glowing blue eyes and the dark streaks reaching up past her jaw along her neck. Another group of freaks had found them. Truly, her journey had come to a close.


	44. Chapter 44

**Words of note**

**Lystheni - an offshoot of the Salarians**

* * *

**SSV Glasgow**

Flicking her eyes back and forth between the stream of information, Liara tried to cajole the best possible images out of the probes. The deeper the teams advanced into the space station, the more critical it was to define their paths. Thus far, she had to reroute most of the probes that had been pulled to the initial fallout at the market sector along the most likely direction Aria might have taken. That the pirate queen was forced to diverge from the original plan was inevitable, given the number of mutants and husks that had reacted to the fiery commotion. The latest count from one of the techs had put the number at a hundred. If Aria had stayed, she would have been ounumbered ten to one.

"Dr T'Soni? There's some disturbance at D5," one of the techs, Trista, called from her station, "transfering scans to main screen."

A portion on the large screen overhanging her console switched to a scene that was ubiquitous all over the space station; grime, dimness, debris, bones. The difference was a small group of longish bodies, huddled over and tearing at something by a set of opened doors. The shape of the bodies gave her pause; they looked lupine, reminiscent of varren. Jutting out beneath their hind legs were a pair of booted feet. Aria's mercenaries? Did they make their way to the lower passages? But why? She had her answer when she pulled up the scans of the market plaza. It was a zone of murky craters surrounded by numerous obstructions. There was no clear path through the area and judging from the mounds of bones by the craters, they were the lairs of the lupine creatures.

If Aria and what remained of her men had managed to get away, they would have gone down through those doors. Where there was literally no probes at all as most of them had been redeployed along the intended routes of the three teams. After a word with Trista, the few probes in the area were directed through the doors. As they bobbed along, the extent of the carnage proved that Aria had indeed made her retreat through the corridor. The sight of another two corpses, clearly her mercenaries, was unsettling. At the rate she was losing men, there was little chance that the third prong of attack would come about.

But where was Aria? She frowned as the probes fetched up against a grey wall. That wasn't right. There had to be an old check-in lobby. Consulting the blueprints of the old mining station, she saw she was right. Something was wrong. There were six mercenaries with Aria. She had counted four corpses so where was Aria and the remaining two? She sent the probes to roam around the area, checking the entry points of the ventilation shafts which were at the juncture where wall joined with the ceiling. Too high. Unless they stood on top of one another, could they reach the covers. An unlikely scenario. There were no holes in the floor, nothing through which they could have entered. So where were they? There was only one possibility. Frowning, she sent the probes back to the grey wall. Somehow, they had gone through it and she was going to find out how. She frowned, peering at the image.

* * *

**Unknown location**

Banging. Someone was banging heavily in her head. Such a thing had never happened for centuries, not since she clawed her way out of the muck and went independent. The occasional tipple she would indulge in but never to the point of inebriation. Lifting an arm that felt heavy, she reached for her head and encountered her helmet instead. The unexpected contact snapped her out of the cloudy lassitude she was in and memories came gushing in. She realised she was lying on something hard even as her eyes stared at the amber lights in the ceiling. Alive? She was alive?

Jerking upward hurriedly, she sat up, looking about her uneasily and found a few Vorcha in tattered grimy clothing, squatting several paces opposite her, tearing into what looked like strips of cooked meat. One of them eyed her as he swallowed his mouthful and then visibly dismissing her, his blue gaze turned to the small fire before him and he reached with a talon that looked sharp enough to pierce through thick armor, for another piece of meat hanging from a crude spit with several other slices.

It was somewhat oddly reassuring, given her circumstances. Cautiously, she looked around to find she was in a large room. A surprisingly tidy room, despite the debris. Tidy as there were little cleared pathways through the foot deep debris that was pushed and heaped into small tent-like shelters for several humans. The Krogans and Vorcha gathered in small groups, not seeming to care if they had anything to rest comfortably on but none of them encroached the little abodes. Most were busy with the same meal as the Vorcha opposite her which led her to wonder if they were eating the creatures they had been battling earlier, which floated forth a question to ponder; why had they kept her alive?

Of her men, nothing and there should be two left. What had happened to them? Turning her head about, she saw no sign of them. Had they died after all? Frowning, she tried to recall what had happened after she was dumped into the floor of that corridor but all she could remember was the face of that Asari. Of whom, there was no trace. Where had she gone to? Her arm brushed against something hard at her hip as she shifted. Looking down, she saw the pistol at her hip. Did she still have her Raptor? Slowly, she raised her right hand to her shoulder, eyeing the Vorcha opposite and her fingers brushed the butt of the sniper rifle, still snugly attached to her armor mount at the back. Relief flooded through her before anxiety stepped in. They didn't remove her weapons. Why? Cautiously, she slide to the edge of the pile of debris she was on and got to her feet, ready to spring aside should the Vorcha rushed her. There wasn't much she could do if it sparked off a rush en masse. But they took no notice of her.

One step. Two step. Confusion warred with incredulity when they continued to ignore her as she stepped onto the nearby little path and stood still. Nothing. She might as well be invisible for all the attention she was getting. Were they testing her? The implication was disturbing and yet kooking at the tiny human abodes and their reaction to her presence, she was inclined to think they were sentient, unlike the mindless groups roaming throughout the station. So where should she go? Try to locate her remaining men or find a way out of wherever she was? Either choice entailed the same process; a search through the area. How much freedom would they allow her?

Toggling the chronometer of her helmet visor, she saw that she had been unconscious for half an hour. Thirty minutes in which the other two teams would have advanced closer to their objective. The absence of her team would not greatly impact the success of the mission but then, she had every reason to want to get into that Cerberus base and she wasn't going to be left out. Looking about her, she struck out along the path, away from the Vorcha. As she treaded warily, she mentally tallied the number and the species. At the most, she estimated two dozen. A mixture of humans, Krogans and Vorcha. No Salarians, Lystheni, Turians, Elcor or Volus.

So bedraggled was their appearance they could have easily blended into the dim surroundings and not be noticed. Except perhaps by smell. For that, she was thankful she was suited up. Even more so that her helmet was not removed or breached. That would have exposed her to unknown elements onboard the station. A development she would avoid at all cost. Tried as she might as she visually examined the humans; the easiest to appraise besides the Vorcha as they were not totally armored like the Krogans, she could not discern if there were any other changes besides the ubiquitous blue eyes. There were no humps along the shoulders, back and arms. Everyone appeared 'normal'. Perhaps they were altered inwardly? They were on the weedy side but not to the point of gauntness. Nor surprising. Food supply would be a problem. Obviously, they had found ways to prevent starvation.

Her feet faltered as something else struck her. Asari. There were no Asari. But there should be one. The one that had presumbly knocked her out. Even as she wondered, the entrance of another room appeared as she rounded a corner. After a moment of hesitation, she stepped through the opened doors to find herself in another room as similar as the one she had traversed with same class of occupants. She turned her attention to the surroundings. There was no feature in the room by which she could identify her location. Neither were there any probes to be seen. Clearly one of the many zones in which no probes were sent. Perhaps she was in the mines, the old offices or the decontamination rooms. She could be anywhere.

"You're in Holdover. Or what used to be Holdover in the lower lobbies."

The voice was unexpected and a shock. So was the pair of blue eyes that bore into her when she whirled around to face the speaker, perched on a broken desk set several paces back from the entrance. The Asari cocked her head, seeming amused even as her human companion stared at her. "I was expecting to see you, Aria."

Definitely, that was an extremely intelligent statement. "You have me at a disadvantage," Aria briefly eyed the human hovering watchfully behind the Asari. Was he just as vocal? She turned her her attention back to the speaker. How had this Asari identified her?

"A rare occurance, isn't it?" said the other, patting the hand her companion placed on her shoulder. A warning or restraint? "Miona," she thumbed at herself in introduction, "I thought you would never turn up."

"How is that?" she scrutinised Miona minutely. Dressed in grimy armor that was missing half the sleeves and padding, there was an air of leanness about her; slight hollows in her cheeks, shadows around those electric blue eyes. Her facial markings were barely visible, it was as if they were bleached out. She was not sure what to make of those streaks of black on her neck.

"With Omega, you are predictable. I'm only surprised you took this long to return."

A undisputable fact. One every mercenary in the Terminus Systems was well aware of; Omega belonged to Aria. She couldn't fault Miona's logic. "Are you aware of recent events?"

A scornful laugh escaped Miona. "Not since those human dregs took control years ago. They bottled each district up when we took up arms. We were cut off from everything."

"And?" she prodded when Miona fell silent.

"I was here," Miona waved at the room, "overseeing the goods to bring down when news filtered down that they had taken over the station. There were reports that you were killed but others said that you left after striking a deal but I knew better. No way and no how. Not after what happened to Liselle. You left because they got you in a bind. Didn't take much to guess what it was," she tilted her head up as her finger made a little circle.

Her meaning was clear. Omega was both Aria's strongest and weakest point. The latter was moot for the last few centuries because there had been no serious contender to the fact. There had been attempts, naturally, but nothing she had ever considered credible. But Cerberus had changed all that with their audacious attack. "You said all the districts were cut off," she said, more interested to learn what had happened after she left.

"I ran back down to headquarters for updates. Those of us doing operations knew those dogs would meddle, packleaders and all that. We weren't about to have outsiders cutting in, so we had a few unfriendly exchanges. Those who were not involved, Drifties mostly, were caught in the middle," Miona shrugged. That was the way of things on Omega, none could escape getting touched by the darkness of the place. Some were stubborn enough to try. Circumstances had forced them to Omega to try to scrap a place for themselves. These were the ones who were only looking for a place to run a little business and pay a token for cramp but cheap affordable apartments. They made every effort to keep themselves away from full blown illegal activities, gangs, mercenaries and pirates. Drifties was what they were called for inevitably, they never stayed long in one place before they were forced to uproot elsewhere by someone or some event. Most of the time though, their home was their tiny business booths, the streets and whatever corner they could find. That they were allowed their existence was due to the recognition that a little cleanliness could do no harm. Besides, if there was ever a need for a gofer with a clean record, the drifties were the people illegal trade runners would look.

"Which district were you at then?"

"Gatame district." It was a district seven levels below Kiegor district, Aria remembered.

"Food supplies were affected and they promised to provide as long as we quit. We were not having any of that. After several days of slugging it out," continued Miona, "Cerberus..," a snarl and a grunt from the human interrupted her and he threw his arms around her protectively. Obviously he recognised the name but couldn't he talk? Aria was not sure what that failure meant as Miona patted his arms before continuing. "They announced that they would evacuate anyone who wished to leave to one of the colonies. They said they would rather have the innocents elsewhere than have them suffer the consequences of a struggle not of their own making. Most of the legits and drifties jumped at it and they did as they were instructed; queued up at the entrances of each district with their belongings on the given date. We took the opportunity to try to get connected to the other districts, link up with the other groups, get a feed out to the com buoys."

"How successful was it?" Aria knew those Cerberus goons would have been waiting for the mercenaries to make their move. It was what she would do.

"There were a couple of feints. As expected. Most of our proxies among the civilians were discovered too but we managed to tap into their own coms after several attempts. There were just too many for them to process in a day so they made several ship outs over the weeks before we broke their cipher and found out that those civilians were transported, as promised, but it wasn't to any colony anyone knew. It was some place called Sanctuary."

"Sanctuary!" Aria hissed venomously. The word left an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

"Not good I take it? But then, when is anything to do with those dogs ever good," snorted Miona. "We didn't know what it was, where it was other than it couldn't be healthy. The pile of messages, they used the word 'shipments' consistently, was not assuring. Add that to the blood letting that went on and those creatures that came aboard before they took over the station. No," she shook her head, "it was bad news."

"What did the gangs do?"

"Get the word out. There was some confusion and all; who'd believed the gangs were actually trying to help? But in the end, the dogs' reputation worked again them. No one went to the entrance anymore. They didn't like that," absently, Miona scratched her arm. With alarm, Aria noted the healed lesions. Were those inflicted in clashes with other groups of freaks? "They left us alone for several weeks. We knew they were systematically subduing the other districts, setting up outposts, bringing in a lot of troops and equipment. We made whatever preparations we could and tried to arm as many as we could," a tiny smile lifted a corner of her lips. "There were not enough guns so we made whatever weapons and traps we could think of. Even primitive stuff we would have scoffed at. Defense barriers, anything, we scoured and stripped the entire district."

"A futile effort since they had access to the environmental control facilities," Aria pointed out, crossing her arms she regarded Miona.

"Is that a trick question?" a throaty amused laugh rang out. "You know as well as I do that there is no central mainframe at Omega Control for those facilities. Every district has its own bubble. The old makers made sure of that to prevent an entire fallout."

It was no more than an attempt to figure out exactly how lucid Miona was but Aria was not about to bother explaining. "So you tried to defend yourselves," she said.

Miona snorted in derision. "You have it right. We tried. They came in hard and fast, they weren't looking to capture us. They were out to stamp us down. Those who were lucky, died. Those who were not so fortunate, were captured," she looked aside, visibly seething. "I was injured, then knocked out. When I woke up, I was in a holding cell with several of our sisters who had been captured in the other districts. One look at where we were and I knew we were doomed. For it was a medical facility and there were other holding cells too, filled with Asari."

She fell silent and Aria did not press. Instead, she tried to see if the human's arms displayed the same kind of lesions Miona had and was perturbed when she saw several. A few looked half-healed. Her eyes jerked back to Miona when she spoke again.

"One by one, those in my cell were dragged out. There was nothing we could do. We had planned to try to attack in unison when they came for us and then we found, to our horror, we could not use our biotics. It wasn't there."

"It's something they had been perfecting against biotics," said Aria coldly, "especially against Asari. It's called omega-enkaphalin. It disrupts biotic powers but not permanently unless used in excess," she could well imagine how it was like for Miona and the others. She herself had been crippled at one time though that was entirely her choice to use her entire measure of biotics. It was that or getting herself turned into an Adjutant. "Something I found out from a source." It was Liara actually, who had supplied that bit. For a brat, she certainly knew alot and had done alot. And she would go far, perhaps beyond what Benezia had achieved. A force to be reckoned with in the coming years.

"Is that what it is?" Miona said bitterly. "We were separated, stripped and tied down to medical tables. They were merciful enough to knock us out before they did their cutting. I do not know what they did but it was something within our heads. Our eyes," she passed her fingers before her electric blue eyes. "They were no longer our own. Time and again, they took us out for their cutting and still we had no idea what was happening. We lost track of time and never knew how long we were held. The only times we knew something terrible was going on were far off screams. Every day," she shuddered and sank back in the embrace of the human who made soothing sounds.

"How did you escape?"

Miona frowned. "One day, I was brought out with another, Jedria, to a room and left there for several hours. It...," she paused for a moment. "It was sudden. I did not know why but I had this terrible overwhelming urge to kill. And the only thing I could kill was... Jedria. I was fighting it but apparently she had the same urgings for she threw me. What she did completely undone what little control I had. By the time I came to myself, Jedria was dead."

"How did you kill her?"

In answer, Miona's hand flared. "Biotics. Not just any biotics," she stood up, beckoning to the human to get off the desk they were sitting on before she drove down into it with a hand stiffened like a blade. The hole left behind when she withdrew her arm was substantial. Even as she did so, the human hurried off.

Amazement held Aria still. "That desk...," she began, shocked. The surface had to be an inch thick and Miona had gone through it as if it was no more solid than jelly.

"Metal. Have you heard of any biotics capable of cleaving through metal?" Miona examined her hand, her biotics ebbing away. "Throw them, bend them, pull at them, yes but not this," she waved at the hole. "There was ...such a hole in Jedria," an ill look flashed across her face. "I killed her without any reason but I knew it was not by my own will. Somehow, those dogs had control of me and they forced such a confrontation to see the results of the experimentation they had wrought on us. As to how I escaped. Something happened that day. I heard an alarm and a call for troop reinforcements. The dogs made a mistake when they removed me from the room. They forgot my biotics were active."

The human ran up at this point to thrust two items at Miona. Aria recognised one as an energy bar and the other, a cup. Smiling her thanks, Miona tore off the wrapper with her teeth and bit into it. "One drawback to using my biotics," she waggled the bar.

"It uses more than the ordinary amount of energy," Aria said. It was not a guess, the actions of the human had proved it.

"Nothing escapes you," Miona said mockingly as she leaned against the desk. "The dogs that came to get me didn't escape. They died and those who tried to stop me," she shrugged. "I freed those who were held with me and we went through the entire building, releasing the prisoners."

"All Asari?"

"No, it was a mixture. Like what you see now and yes, they retained their sanity," Miona stared down into the cup. "We thought we would find all the labs, free the prisoners, take back the station. They wanted to turn us into tools they could use, enhanced our abilities but we thought we would use it against them. It turned out differently. Much more contrary to what we envisioned."

"You ran into those whose sanity was not a factor in their experiments."

"Yes," Miona muttered shortly. "We got out of that lab and found we were at Frodik district. There was the wail of an alarm, gunfire and screaming. We ran to it, thinking other prisoners were fighting for their freedom too. It turned out the screaming was coming from those dogs getting hacked and eaten by creatures we did not recognise. We were not sure what we were seeing but those creatures turned on us too when they saw us. We lost a quarter of our number before we got away. In the confusion, the group was scattered. I managed to stay with my current companions and we decided to get out of the district. If possible, make our way to one of the docking bays, get on one of the dogs' ships they surely would have parked there and escaped. Again, it didn't turn out that way. We found our route perilous, populated by dangerous creatures. I don't know what had happened but it seemed like the dogs had lost control and the entire station was no longer safe."

"What did you do then?" Aria could very well understand their confusion.

"We tried, again and again to get to the docks. For all our efforts, we kept losing more and more of our number," Miona sighed heavily as she thought of those who were gone. "Finally, we decided we should make for Omega Control. Over run the main base and take control and put out a call for help. Again, it was not so easy."

"The mutant groups."

"Yes. There were many of them, more than what you see now out there. Our only choice was to find a safe place, dig in and try to survive. We returned to the lab," Miona chuckled at Aria's start of surprise. "Perhaps it was madness to return there but it was the only place where we thought we could find food supplies. And we did."

"How many times have your people shifted?"

"I lost count. After supplies ran low, we look to other food sources and planned out our route to the Kiegor district. We hit any of their outposts we found and took what they had, even came across the groups they sent out to supply those troops. They didn't make it to their destination naturally. It was slow but we finally made it here," finishing the last of the energy bar, Miona drained the cup and set it aside. "I think they didn't manage to round up everyone," she regarded Aria gravely. "I don't know when their control slipped but we came across signs of clashes between survivors and the mutants. None of the survivors lived."

Aria nodded. "That's what we found when we made it in through the maintenance corridor. When was the last time you came across their supply train?"

"I'm not sure," Miona said slowly, head tilted. "None of us have omni-tools but I would say, it seemed like months perhaps. Which brings me to, how long has it been since you left? Do you know why those dogs chose to do what they did?"

"It's almost five years, close to the end of the Wane on Thessia."

"The Wane," whispered Miona longingly. "It's been years since I tasted the air of home."

"I understand," Aria stirred uneasily. That statement had slipped out without volition. "Cerberus," this brought an angry hiss from the human who had been silent and still. She ignored his reaction and continued, "have research bases through the Black Gate. That was the source of the dangerous aliens that first invaded the station. As to why they want this place, besides being the biggest lab they could ever find, it's an easy and ready made place of deployment for their supplies and their troops. Some months after I left, the entire galactic community faced extinction."

"Extinction? What do you mean?"

"We were invaded, by sentient synthetics. No, not the Geth," Aria anticipated the conclusion Miona would have reached. "No, these were far more dangerous and merciless. Every race was embroiled in the war for survival for these synthetics, called Reapers, did not intend that any species that are technologically advanced, should live."

"I don't understand."

"Perhaps later," Aria did not feel she should waste more time explaining. Already, she could see the opportunities Miona represented and if they all lived, whatever had happened would be fully accounted for. "What I understand, from other sources, is that these Reapers look for ways and means to try to make use of organics. To use us as spies and troops against our own. The Collectors were one of their servants and Cerberus ended up as their running dog too," she put up a hand as Miona made to speak. "Cerberus' primary goal had always been to gain ascendency. They would do anything to achieve that end. Hence," she spread her hands at Miona.

"They were trying to make extremely powerful biotics among their troops and finding ways to control them," Miona stated flatly in comprehension. "The others could have been shock troops of a sort," she turned to look at her group around the room. "You are here now. Is the war over?"

"Yes, and I'm going to need your help to retake the station."

"You couldn't have moved into the station with one group," observed Miona shrewdly.

It was pointless denying the fact so Aria nodded. "There are others. Alliance marines, led by Captain Shepard."

"Shepard. Commander Shepard?" Miona said hesitantly and seemed to light up when Aria confirmed it. "Captain now. Where is she?"

"Working her way towards Omega Control as we speak. My group was decimated and we lost contact. Did any of them make it?"

"Two," Miona turned to point, "over in that corner. They seem...distressed and we had to disarm them. As to helping," she turned back. "A condition."

Of course there would be. "Which is?" said Aria, having an idea what Miona would ask for.

"If we live, those of us who wished it, should be allowed to return home. In peace. That means there must be no medical experimentation to be done on us."

"That is impractical," objected Aria. "Even you know that."

"We will submit to tests to prove that we are not carrying contagions. That is all," Miona stared at Aria. "Is that too much to ask?"

It was not really but then the decision was not hers alone to make. Krogans, Vorcha, humans, Asari. Each of their respective government would not be too happy to find their perrogative regarding their own people usurped by a pirate queen. She didn't even have to think of the opinions the Assembly would venture. And yet, what choice did she really have? Miona and her group would perhaps let her and her men go if she refused. Their chances in breaking through to Omega Control would not be affected. But then, she would prefer to have Miona playing alongside, it would make the task easier.

A thump from behind distracted her and she turned to see a looming Krogan in battered grimy armor. "Shepard ... Aria!" it growled before it swung a large glowing fist at her.

No doubt, if it had connected, it might have left a dent in her chest but she was already dodging out of the way. "What do you...?!" she began angrily before she realised the Krogan looked familiar, even with a missing half headplate.

"Patriarch?!"


	45. Chapter 45

**Words of note**

**DB - deep base**

**G2 - general two**

**POA - point of attack**

* * *

**Ilos**

The soft bells of the alarm took some time to register. Before taking his eyes off the monitor of his terminal, he enabled an audio file. As soft music floated in the air, he opened the first drawer of his desk and reached for the small bottle nestled in the corner. Uncapping it, he leaned back in his char and squeezed a few drops into each of his eyes and closed them for several seconds. As he briefly allowed himself to relax, he blanked his mind and let himself drift with the music; the smell of pine, that biting fresh tang to the air, swirling yellow-brown leaves carpeted the ground, tinkling laughter. A smile lifted his lips.

A soft chime at the door broke his solitude and he sat up, thumbing the intercom as the marine sentry outside announced the presence of the steward. The hatch snapped aside, he spared a brief nod to the officer even as he turned his attention back to his terminal. The steward said nothing but pulled out a hidden board just above the first drawer and laid down the tray he was carrying on it. The admiral, he knew, never liked to be disturbed when he was busy nor would he appreciate being fussed over so after making sure everything was set out properly, he spoke softly before he turned and left the room.

Once the hatch had closed behind the steward, he grabbed one of the sandwiches off the plate on the tray and took a bite, eyes intent on the terminal. The taste of egg and ham exploded on his tongue, dry but offset by the mango flavour paste that was generously spread in the thin layers of bread. Not exactly high class fare but better than those served in the mess where the garrison would have to make do with energy bars, tubes of paste and EH-rations. He took a sip from the cup on the tray and grimaced; the coffee was awful. If only there were better beverages to make his day a little better but he would have to settle for something that tasted days old and bitter sour.

He finished the first sandwich shortly and started on the second, returning to the document on the screen. Commander Donev had done a great job, coordinating all the odds and ends of the garrison, construction of the base, troops, essential supplies. Most particularly, generating as much collaborative interchanges with their Turian counterparts. Unfortunately, all his efforts also spawned the inevitable piles of electronic and hardcopy documents which he had to sign off. He had the suspicion there wouldn't be so many if the garrison had been put under the supervision of one military governance but the Council had passed a prudent resolution that Ilos would remain in custodial protection. A rotational duty to be shared by the Counil races, the humans and Turian would have the first three years, followed by the Asari and Salarian for the next three and then a mixture of the other races for another three and so on.

The Prothean Archives was literally a gold mine of information, whoever hit the jackpot would climb up the ladder of advancement. Though as of now, the Prothean VI was stubbornly restricting access to everything except records on Prothean culture and indoctrination studies conducted by the the last surviving Prothean scientists. It also meant there was no way of accessing the one and only Inusannon archives in existence. That had effectively quelled any possibility of a lengthy dispute among the ambassadors, making it easier to decide on the caretakers. Still, the vast store of knowledge presented an edge none of the Council races would want to see in the hands of any one species. Hence, the reason why he and General Tarpeius were lording over the dead rock and bouncing every single process off each other. Hell, no one could fart in any direction unless both of them said so and the cadre of researchers weren't too happy when their requests didn't reach a consensus fast enough.

Complaints aside, it was a good thing not a single weapons engineering disciplines were in the current crop. The amount of trouble they could stir up should they discover any cutting edge technology would be vastly disastrous. For that, he supposed he had Shepard to thank. Though it was never determined whether the lockout was an original security protocol, there were suspicions that Shepard might had a hand in it. Her involvment in breaking through to the Prothean Archives on Ilos was not public knowledge. Only Hackett, the Council and those who had gone with her knew exactly what had happened. Though not verified, their silence on the matter was clear indication of their approval. If she had really done it, it prevented another cloud of tumult in an already cloudy troubled galaxy. He for one, was grateful for that though others might not see it that way.

Pressing his thumb to the scan pad, he signed off on the supply acquisition order, finished the last sandwich and reached for the cup, draining it in a long swallow. He could have just left it but the careless approach to food and everything else had gone out with the demise of the Reapers. Every scrap, however awful, was precious. A fact every marine imbibed the moment he or she went out on the first solo assignment with the barest minimum supplies to last for the duration of the mission. That was just the bottom pan of the standard grounding for grunts. The top would be the final N7 training course or the Crusher for chosen officers, a gruelling journey through the deepest pits of fire and brimstone. Or so he heard.

However, the hard lesson learnt during boot camp didn't manage to stay in. Rising up through the ranks brought about a list of privileges that he couldn't refuse to indulge in. He wasn't alone in this but he should have known better. The Reaper War had hit a lot of home runs on several matters he had mostly ignored, overlooked or forgotten. It changed many things. Hell, it turned the world as he knew it upside down and booted him out of his comfortable niche. Just like everyone else. A self-mocking smile twisted his lips as he regarded the empty cup. Setting it back on the tray, he turned back to the terminal. Pulling up the next document, he started in on the summaries; hydroponics inventories. The strident shriek of an alarm was sudden and shocking.

A comm window opened up at once on his terminal. "Sir, we have a G2 alert," Commander Donev said urgently. "We have lost contact with DB outposts."

"Which ones?" he was already on his feet, ready to move to CIC.

"All of them."

He stifled the 'That's impossible' thought that immediately flashed to mind; after the war, anything was plausible, and said instead, "I'm on my way." There wasn't any need to send any message to his Turian counterpart, it was Tarpeius's turn in the hot seat at CIC. Shutting down his terminal and locking it took a few seconds before he was outside his office, murmuring his intentions to the marine sentries who had unlimbered their assault rifles and were looking about them warily. With one of the marines leading the way, they went down the empty corridor; most of the clerical staff would keep to their offices unless told otherwise.

If it had been just a prefab, they would have reached CIC within a few minutes but the temporary main base was constructed of a total of nine prefabs, making it the largest building on the planet. The huge number of personnel required had warranted more than the usual amount of space. As it was, it took them several minutes to reach operations. The marines peeled off to stand with their Turian colleagues at the entrance as he walked in to a familiar scene; frenetic activity and tension. At a glance, he knew the alert had not reached the critical stage for there was none of that sharp rigid anxiety. Instead, what was coming across was more of puzzlement. Tarpeius, he saw, was at the holo tank with Donev and went over to join them.

"Admiral Roux," Tarpeius nodded to him which he returned, standing stiffly as was his wont. "A situation has developed," he gestured to the holographic display of the Prothean archives.

"What am I looking at?" he frowned at the outline of a globe around the archives. It wasn't there originally, he was sure.

Donev magnified the image, dozens of little icons representing base personnel were scattered on all levels of the archives. "As far as we can ascertained, it's a force field. Of what kind, we are unable to determine. We can't contact anyone within that sphere," he said, "but we're sure they're still alive. We're registering heat signatures."

"How many are caught within the barrier?" Roux stared at the globe.

"Security personnel, techs and most of the researchers," said Donev glumly. "I'd say some sort of security protocol was kicked into drive."

"A security protocol?" Why now? Roux wondered. "Anything unusual happened before the alert?"

"Nothing," Tarpeius shook his head. "Everything was running according to daily schedule. Scans showed no signs of intruders nor have the flotilla reported any relay translations for the last several hours. All transmissions via com buoys will have to be examined but we have to consider the possibility that whatever triggered it has to be within."

"We'll need to examine all vid logs, most particularly those at the archival terminals, starting from the last few weeks," added Roux, thinking of the techs they would have to pull for the onerous task.

"Actually, sirs, I think I may have an idea what triggered the force field," offered Donev, looking to the two commanding chiefs tentatively and continued when they looked receptive. "If you'll look at this vid?" he pulled up the most recent logs.

A new screen popped up before them. The view from the camera installed at the access bridge to the archival terminals, Roux realised. He looked at the time stamp, just a few minutes before noon. He watched as the group of cultural researchers gathered, obviously discussing the notes of the day before strolling to the lift even as a lone Salarian approached the round platform. He frowned as the Salarian began to pace, looking now and then towards the lift. A few minutes later, the group came into sight as they ascended in the lift and then disappeared from view as they entered the check point for the monorail that would take them back to the labs.

Tarpeius leaned forward as the Salarian continued to circle instead of heading to the terminals. "Indecision," he observed. Roux nodded in agreement as the Salarian seemed to finally make up his mind, cast another look towards the lift and headed to the central terminal. Taking what looked like an OSD from his coat pocket, he began to work. The clear image from the vid suddenly became fuzzy as Donev fast forwarded it. "The force field materialised a few minutes later," he said.

"Any fluctuations at the core?" Roux didn't think there was, given the level of alert but one never knew. It would be impossible to evacuate everyone should it threaten to destablise within a short time frame. His tension eased a little when Donev shook his head. "Who is the Salarian researcher?"

"A Dr Kedar Olor, he was part of the team studying indoctrination on Thessia and part of the Ilos breakthrough expedition," Donev put up the personnel jacket of the Salarian in another screen. "He was also a participant in the Crucible project. Before that, he was a member of the STG weapons research teams and earned several citations for his notable contributions in the war effort."

"_Weapons research_," Tarpeius put a slight emphasis as he looked at Roux. "If he is the perpetrator of this crisis, it is obvious what he is after."

"I've only passing acquaintance with him but I get the impression that he's not entirely happy that the Council is refusing to explore other approaches to eliminate the TI," Ruox fingered his beard, not entirely disagreeing with that assessment but he felt they should be cautious. "Of course he's not the only one but didn't he file an official protest on this subject?" he glanced at Donev who made a quick search and another screen appeared.

"Yes, sir. It was after the discovery that Vigil is refusing access to the deeper ciphers."

Tarpeius rumbled in satisfaction as he read and pointed out to a section of the document. "There. He's suggesting stronger measures to facilitate access to information that is vital to removing the TI threat."

"Would you say he's doing it alone?"

"I would look for accomplices," said Tarpeius at once, "especially among the Salarian contingent and one other."

"Module," Roux knew who Tarpeius was thinking of; the Turian general had made his distrust quite plain though not openly to the Geth. The Prime was admittedly the best hacker among the personnel on Ilos. Hell, it was literally a set of advanced AI programs, specialised to command other Geth units and deadly in armament. "But would it cooperate with Olor?"

There was an air of distaste about Tarpeius. "The Geth have not exactly been shy about their curiosity about organics. That curiosity would extend to retrieving all manner of information."

"They have been honest in their interest and thus far, they have been conforming in respect to our mode of convention," Ruox pointed out. It was one of a few subjects that they did not see eye to eye. On learning that a Geth Prime was working on the Prothean device during the briefing on the Citadel, Tarpeius had moved to have the Geth removed but the Council had overrode his objections. It was not that he did not empathise with Tarpeius's argument, he was not blind to the probability that they might pose a threat in the future and the Geth were a formidable force to reckon with. Which was why he was supportive of the old man's plan that they should try to engage the Geth in positive ways to influence their cogitative development. Should that confllict break out, they could perhaps count on a few allies among the machines. Besides, it was not all a one way street. Just as the Geth was learning about the organics, it was flowing the other way as well.

"I would not put much credence in their conformation," returned Tarpeius coolly.

Rather than go on yet another round of debate on that issue, a well flogged dead horse by all counts, Ruox returned to the matter at hand. "Assuming Olor has Module's help, is there a reason why he would be operating alone? Putting in an OSD when a Prime can do it a hundred times better, linked to the terminal?" he saw the twitch on Tarpeius's brow as he considered an entirely valid point and added another pill to the brew. "I will not be surprised if Module has already gained most of the information within the archives. Back when it was repairing the mainframe, it can copy all the data it wants."

"Which is precisely why the Geth should not have been included in the breakthrough expedition," Tarpeius said sharply, jaw flaps flaring.

Putting up his hands in a placating gesture, Ruox said firmly, "That's beside the point I'm trying to make. In this incident, Olor is acting on his own."

Looking somewhat sour, Tarpeius stared at the screens before nodding grudgingly. "Very well. Unfortunately, to remove him, we have to find a way to take down the barrier and I do not think any of the researchers would be able to help."

"Where is Module?" If possible, Tarpeius's spine seemed to stiffen further but irregardless of his views on the Geth, Module was still the best tech on Ilos and Ruox was not about to let Tarpeius's prejudice get in the way of a solution.

"I'm afraid it's with the archeologists at the settlement, sir," Donev said apologetically. "And they're all..."

"...caught in the barrier," finished Ruox with a sigh, crossing his arms. "Any further analyses on what kind of field is it?"

"It doesn't look like a wall," Donev removed all the other screens cluttering the hologram of the archives. A schematic of the barrier flashed into view. "It seems to permeate the entire zone. None of those within the barrier have moved since the alert."

"Held in stasis?" rasped Tarpeius.

"It is possible, sir."

"With everyone immobile, I don't see how we can access Vigil to kill the security protocol even if Module had been available," Ruox said worriedly.

"If I may make a suggestion?" Donev pointed to an area outside the globe. "The original terminal where Vigil first made contact with Captain Shepard is located here. We can try to work from that console."

"Alright," Ruox said after a glance at Tarpeius who nodded. "Take a squad, get a couple of the techs and get down there. Donev," Ruox added as the commander turned to go. "Be cautious. If the V.I. seemed hostile, get back here at once."

"Hostile, sir?" Donev nodded determinedly, unfazed by that implausible notion, throwing a salute to him and Tarpeius before leaving.

"Hostility indeed," Tarpeius murmured as they turned back to the holo tank. "What are the alternatives if Vigil refuses to cooperate."

"Then we call on someone it will respond to."

"Shepard."

There was no inflection in the Turian's voice but Ruoz knew he was equally suspicious of Shepard as of the Geth. Mainly for her success in finding the ancient archives and restoring Vigil but it was this very accomplishment that brought up dozens of questions. The reports of the mission they were given were typical but they never completely explained how she bypassed the security lock down at a number of key points. Not privy to the classified documents himself, he however, had a different view. Not because she was human, like himself, but because what she had done in the war. In a career doted with notable distinctions, actions, in his opinion, spoke louder of a person than words generously spent.

He decided to raise a more pressing issue. "Though the core is stable, it may not remain so should something...," he hesitated, "go awry. We should begin evacuating non-essential personnel. Starting with the construction crews."

If Tarpeius was aware he was attempting to distract him, he gave no sign of it. "I agree," he lifted a talon finger to the Turian lieutenant hovering nearby. "Let's get on with it then before circumstances becomes more dire."

* * *

**Omega, NW Kiegor District, Medical Sector**

Try as he might, he couldn't take his eyes away from the scene before him though it spelled big trouble for him and the squad. He could only described it as a horror trance that held him to his position far longer than was wise as he looked over the freaky congregation standing about like statues. The occasional rumblings that arose was the only sign that they were alive. It wouldn't have been so bad if they weren't standing right in the route his squad was supposed to take. His helmet comlink bliped as the tech overseeing his group spoke up.

"They're all in their Sunday best for the festivity, you'll have to take a detour to avoid the crowd," Decker's tone was jocular but Lt Ulros knew he was anything but. The tech was right however. He considered the magnified scene before him for another few seconds before ducking back down behind the broken wall of a shattered building and examined the map displayed on his visor. The mass of red dots, almost a solid swathe, took up most of the street and the adjoining buildings. The detour was going to be rather large.

"Alright. We're going pass by the pub," using a special stub on his gauntleted finger, he traced the new route on his muted omni-tool from which only the barest outlines of the map could be seen and sent it to Decker and the rest of the squad that were crouched down out of sight in the ruins. "Heard the brew's a killer so we'll just skip the watering holes." He was referring to the various medical facilities prevalent in this sector, surely once hotbeds of dangerous Cerberus experimentation. Trust Shepard and the skipper to land his group in the hot brew.

"There's worst than Scrooch's?" drawled one of the marines softly, rousing amusement from the rest at the reference to the galley crewmen, especially the one who was in charge of the bar in the wardroom. Used to quaffing no less than average quality alcohol before the war, most marines were not too happy to find themselves nursing finger glasses of questionable fluids that could be best described as banal fuel shit whenever they dropped by the wardroom. It was no fault of the crewman, nicknamed Scrooch, that alcohol was at the bottom of the food chain but they had expected drinkable poisons to beat off the tedium on board a tin can.

Ulros signalled to the lead scout, Oita, who slipped off to his right, followed by the rest, slithering like shadows through the ruins to the street a hundred meters away that ran parallel to the original route. A word of caution from Decker who was still herding the probes to the new route, brought their pace to a near crawl. Which meant they might be the last group to reach their POA. To Ulros, It didn't matter how long they were going to take, he was more concerned in making sure they did get there. Far off, he could hear the mutants, reassuringly muted. A warning flashed on his visor. The squad froze.

"Ferret 1, there's another group fifty meters down from you," Decker's voice was tight.

"Shit," Ulros looked at the new lot of bogeys before checking around the map. Should they make yet another detour? "Alright, we're going through the building," he said, highlighting the large structure, the main medical centre according to the legend description, next to the street. "We'll get to the third floor and cross over to the other side."

"There're no probes in the building," Decker warned.

"Get ten of the little guys here, we'll bring them in."

"Be a few minutes."

Expecting the probes to come floating down, Ulros looked down surprised when he felt something bumping his right boot. Encircling his boots was a gaggle of metallic balls. Grinning, he gathered three, tapped the nearest marine and handed them to her. Another three went to another marine and he picked up the last four himself. With Oita taking point, they searched for the nearest entrance but couldn't find any unless they enroached further down the street. They backtracked instead and finally came upon a set of doors. A quick check revealed all reserve power was gone. The engineer took a pair of small magnetic clamps from her belt pouch and attached them to the doors. With another marine, they forced open the doors manually. After a quick look inside; an empty stretch of corridor, they trooped in, the engineer removing the clamps so they could shut the door behind them.

"Look for stairs, head three up," Ulros instructed as they went down the dusty corridor, noting the perforated walls and broken doors. The dust was inches thick and undisturbed. "Keep your heads down." The last thing they needed was for some sharp eye freak to spot them through the few windows a distance away.

"Found it," said Oita, looking round the corner of an opened doorway. "Clear."

"Go."

The stairwell was empty as they went up, saved for a solitary skull that was inexplicably wedged between the railings of the banister at the second floor. How it got there, he had no idea as there was no sign of the rest of the body. Perhaps some freak had taken it out for a spin and lost it. He grimaced at the ghoulish whimsy and shook his head. Not the time to let his imagination run riot.

"Third floor," said Oita.

Making his way past the rest on the stairs, Ulros signalled to the other two marines carrying the probes to join him and they released the little devices at the doorway. Watching them scurried away like eager puppies and scattering in all directions, he waited until Decker gave the green flag and updated with a partial floor plan. There was just a main corridor with what looked like a large lab to the right and smaller rooms to the left.

"We'll stick to the corridor. Ferret 3."

The scout led off. Though they were off the ground level, reducing the need to scurried about crouch, they took every precaution when they approached doors, keeping well clear of them.

"Hold up," came Decker's voice minutes later, halting the group. "Corridor is blocked."

"Report."

"Part of the outer wall has collapsed inward," Decker put up a refreshed map. "No way through except that large lab on the right."

"What do you see in the lab?"

The answer was slow in coming. "Nothing good," Decker sounded sick. "Nothing's moving...thank god."

"Right," Ulros ignored the last invocation and waved to the rest to continue to advance, coming to a stop when they saw the cave in. The outer wall had crashed into the ceiling to floor glass panels that formed one side of the lab, leaving a small entry way big enough for one person. Carefully plucking away shards of broken glass around the edges, they stepped through. For a moment, everyone froze.

"Stay focus, people," Ulros said firmly. "Ferret 3, lead on."

He tried to do the same but inevitably, he had to take notes. The collapsed wall had fallen in on a row of metal poles, several of which jutted out bent and twisted beneath. His eyes were drawn to an untouched pole. Four chains were strung out and attached to them, was the dried corpse of an Elcor, its legs in large metal cuffs. Test subject, most likely. And the Elcor was not the only one. On the tables that ranged along the length of the lab, there were also other bodies. All similarly bound. Two large holding cells were set against the opposite wall and they were not empty. He didn't bother to count how many there were. The dejected postures of the bodies within told their own story.

Glancing around as he moved among the tables, he didn't try to look too hard, he realised that the lab equipment were in disarray. Datapads, hardcopy, datapods, hypoinjectors, surgical paraphernalia were strewed everywhere. There was no sign that weapons had been discharged in the lab. The Cerberus researchers were interrupted in their daily work, he was sure. Perhaps the very event that completely derailed their plans for the station; when they lost control of the mutants in other sectors. They were forced to flee and left their victims to die. He looked around again, sick to his stomach. How long? How long had they lasted, tied to the tables? Abruptly, he shied away from the thought. No, it was not a good thing to ponder on.

"What the hell are those?" one of the marines said softly, pointing to a cluster of huge vats, standing at three meters in the far corner.

"Cut the chatter, Ferret 5," he said sharply. "Stay clear of unknown materials. Focus." The last thing he needed was to have some living mutant leaping out on them from the mysterious vats.

Silence fell. They came to the shut doors of the lab where the metal clamps were once again deployed to open them. Unlikely as it was anything would come after them from the lab, he chose to have the doors sealed. In a way, he felt as if he was locking up a place of horrors he would never visit nor want to think of again. The rest probably felt the same for the moody tension lifted slightly. They returned to the main corridor and followed it right to the end, where it branched off. After a search, they found another stairwell. This time, instead of picking up the probes which had once more gathered at his feet, Ulros stuck all of them on one of the marines' weapon mount at Decker's suggestion.

Looking at the cluster of probes on the marine's back as they went down the stairs, he wondered if the Alliance couldn't come up with their own version. Having seen a demonstration on how the probe worked, he thought they were very handy little gadgets, with intuitive programs that were close to V.I.s, able to carry out a variety of designated tasks. The Alliance drones were good but for finer field work, the probes were better. Easy to carry around and program. A blip over his helmet comlink distracted him and he realised the squad was waiting by the exit doors.

"Ferret 1, street is clear all the way to POA."

His mouth went a little dry at that but he waved to the engineer to get the doors opened. This time, he didn't bother with the doors. A check with the map showed the Omega Control three hundred meters away. The enclosure Cerberus had built was just a hundred and fifty. Very close. He gestured to the squad and they spread out to the formation he wanted. Sgt Harris drifted back near to the tail while he kept close to Oita. His comlink bliped again.

"Ramrod 1 to Ferret 1."

"Ferret 1, go," he grinned. Shepard's deep voice was like balm. Even if he weren't where he was, he wouldn't mind listening to her whenever he could, she had a beautiful voice. It reminded him of someone from his past._  
_

"Target reached. Status."

"Wholesome. Target in sight. ETA, Twenty minutes tops."

"Set up the beach mat when you do."

"Copy."

Oh yeah, the party was about to begin.


	46. Chapter 46

**Words of note**

**MIA - missing in action**

* * *

**Omega, SW Kiegor District, Residential Sector**

Grey. From the six meter high defense wall to the ruins of buildings along the street and as far as Shepard could see around her, everything was coated in grey. Dust and ashes. It reminded her of the Prothean settlement on Ilos. The colour of death. Forming a crooked line that ran parallel to the wall was a thick mound of ashes. It was there not because somebody had forgotten to send the cleaners. No, that thick pile of ashes was there because it was all that was left of the mutants that had attacked the base. Of that, she was certain. Leaving the bodies around would not only bring biohazards but more predators as well. All they had to do was throw incendiary liquids or bombs over the wall and the job was done. Quick and simple. And judging from the piles of ashes, there were probably many such attacks initially but had likely tapered off as the mutant population was whittled down in the district.

Using her visor magnifier, she zoomed in to see the gun turret placements bristling along the defense perimeter. The moderately well lit area, unlike the maintenance corridor and the rest of the residential sector, allowed her see the evenly spaced at four meters apart and above a man's height, every shot fired would have hit something. Not a healthy prospect for the assault teams. Getting to the shut gates at the wall would require a little more finesse than marching right up and knocking on them as every standing building within fifty meters had been pulverised. Reception would be iffy, exchanges would be raging but at the end of it, she hoped to have as many as possible walking out of it alive. Behind the wall loomed the tower that held the key to their mission.

Sinking back down behind her cover, she tapped her comlink. "Ramrod 1 to Ferret 1, update on Skewers?'

"Ferret 1, Skewers sinking the surface," Ulros gently knocked his fists on top of the other to the marine next to him who lifted his gun and fired up into the ventilation shaft built into the ceiling a few hundred meters away. Darts impacted into the metal before exploding in quick bursts, leaving behind a trail of holes. The marine paused for a moment, adjusting his aim and fired off another round, a third and a fourth. After checking the results through his helmet visor enhancements, Ulros made another gesture. Another marine fired off a grapple from her gun. It snicked firmly into the ceiling, dropping down a rope in the process. Standing up, she put her weight on it and pulled before fastening a special hand clinch. Another nod and a thumbs up from Ulros after receiving an all clear from Decker, she hooked her belt to the rope before hitting a button on the clinch. It drew her swiftly up to the metal panel next to the shot up piece.

Once there, she began to cut along the perforated lines of the metal with a cutting tool. The holes made it easier for the blade to slice through more quickly than she would have working on an integral sheet. She made three complete cuts and the fourth in intervals. Putting away the tool, she stuck a small hand clamp on it and pushed at the sheet, bending it inward. Keeping one hand on the clamp, she brought out the tool and completed the fourth cut. The metal sheet came loose. Carefully, she slide a quarter of it into the hole of the other end of the shaft, opposite the path she meant to take, detached the clamp and pushed the rest in with her foot.

"You're clear, Skewer 1," said Ulros softly, watching Sanders swayed at the rope. "Stay frosty, you're moving into a spicy pepper zone." Not that she needed any reminder but he felt it wouldn't hurt to keep her on her toes.

"Yes, sir," she said as she braced her hands against the ceiling to steady herself. Reaching for another coil of rope with a grapple at her belt, she fired it as close as possible to the edge of the opened shaft, attached another hand cinch before transferring her safety hook. The switch over was smooth. Plucking two small hand clamps from her belt, she attached it to the sides of the inner wall of the opened shaft and pulled herself in, finding that it was big enough for her to crouch in. She put out a fist with a thumbs up sign to those below.

"You're on, Skewer 2 and 3," Ulros waved to the rest of the infiltrators, Pardew and Garza, who ascended smoothly up the second rope and vanished into the shaft. "Ferret 1 to Ramrod 1, Skewers are threading. Moving to primary site," he gestured to the squad. Time to set up their pieces.

Going well so far. Shepard checked her chronometer again. Just a little over three hours since their entry into the station and the mercenary group still MIA. If Aria failed to show up, she was going to lose the bet and treat Dorrin to a restaurant of his choice when they returned to the Citadel. And she was so looking forward to a free meal too, at his expense. That and turning his skepticism about the pirate queen on its head. With the infiltrator team on their way, Aria had at most, forty minutes to an hour to turn up. Otherwise, she was going to miss the storming of the gates and the take down of General Petrovsky, the main cog in her drive to retake Omega.

"Eyes to Ramrod 1."

"Ramrod 1, go," Shepard frowned at the note of uncertainty in Liara's voice and wondered what had cropped up.

"Contact established with Bristle...," Liara hesitated, her gaze fixed on one of the screens, "be advised that Bristle's group composition has..deviated."

"What?" Shepard was not sure she understood. "Deviated? Clarify."

"Group now comprised of three original dusters and over thirty...converted natives." The long silence from the other end spoke volumes of her bondmate's shock. She could visualise the little creases on her crumpled brow, those fine but thick eyebrows twisted one up and down and that perplexed but concentrated look in her eyes as she worked the problem. Would she allow Aria to approach the base or have her and the group clustered outside?

"What did Bristle 1 say?" Shepard said finally, quelling the cauldron of questions boiling up and picked the most important. If they survived, they could talk themselves to death afterwards to get all the details.

"That they are reliable, that's all she will say," Liara braced herself against the console with a hand as she rubbed the back of her neck with the other, "the other detail she added is that they are all enhanced biotics. Emphatic on enhanced."

"What are they?"

"A mixture of humans, Vorcha, Krogan and one Asari," Liara wondered if there had been only the one Asari or had the others simply failed to survive up to this point. "They're..," she hesitated before adding, "there is nothing unusual about them," at least from what she could see, except for those glowing blue eyes.

"I presume Bristle's com range is affected," Shepard said after trying the com frequencies and failed to raise Aria.

"Yes, I can patch you through our fine friends," she made the link even as she spoke briefly to Aria.

Aria's voice sounded a little faraway but her hard tone came across crystal clear. "We can either help or we can stay where we are," she shot off immediately before Shepard could utter a single word. "But I'll still want in on the prize."

Of course she would. She didn't think Aria would forgive her if she missed the boat for Petrovsky but that was beside the point to the fact that Aria sounded like herself. "Position?"

"Near assigned point."

That was much faster than Shepard expected, given that the mercenary group had gone off course right from the start but then, that group Aria was with now probably knew all the latest shortcuts. As to whether they could be useful in the assault, of that, she was certain they might prove more formidable than Aria's original picked mercenaries. The question was how far should she trust them? How much sentience did they have? And how much control could Aria exert over them? The last thing she needed was a mad rampage. If Cerberus troops were flatten, that was all fine but not if essential hardware were rendered useless in the process. That would make the entire mission even more difficult.

"How many hampers do you have with you?" If there were only two surviving mercenaries, it was unlikely they would have the required loadouts to take out the turrets.

"Not enough but the rest brought their hunting gear," Aria eyed Patriach next to her, who returned the favour. His blue eyes disconcertingly cold but then, the gaze of the others was just as chilly though their behaviour had been contrary to the coldness. Even Patriach, even if he wanted to settle old scores with her but Miona had talked him down. As if he knew what she was thinking, he lifted his lips in a snarling grin. Perhaps it was just as well that he was no longer as garrulous. She waited for Shepard's reply, the human was plainly suspicious. So would she in her shoes. Hence, there was only one choice the human would make amd she smiled mirthlessly at the reply.

"Bristle, set up at designated spot and hold until further update," Shepard said finally. Not having seen what the new biotics were capable of, she'd rather use them as lookouts and reinforcements in the south-eastern zone. "Ramrod 1 out," she switched back to Liara. "Eyes, let me know if Bristle decides to take a hike."

"Understood," Liara enlarged the screen tracking Aria and her group before checking the progress of the infiltrator team. "Skewer is close, two-thirds to go," a quick glance showed most of the probes, as instructed, had gathered as near to thirty meterss at the perimeter of the defense wall. As far as she could discern, the level of energy at the turrets had remained the same. Whether this meant that the probes had not triggered off any sensors remained to be seen. They would know soon enough within the next several minutes as she sent them parallel to the infiltrators' course, keeping a sharp eye on their progress and an opened com to Lt Ulros.

Up high above, the three marines advanced steadily. Wide enough to accomodate a man with a broad girth, the ventilation shaft was too low in height to allow standing or even to crouch-walk comfortably. The infiltrators settled for crawling on all fours, which was faster. They only had to make sure they didn't bump up against the shaft, the scraping and thudding of weapons against metal wouldn't do them any good. At point, Sanders kept an eye on her position displayed on her helmet visor and held up a palm as her icon drew nearer to the red line; the turrets could fire up on their position. Below, Ulros tensed, waiting with the rest to see if the turrets would respond. If they did, the covering pattern they set up would take out the immediate turrets. The icon remained green, the turrets remained inert. Heart beating rapidly, Sanders crawled on.

Behind her, Pardew and Garza slowed down to a snail's pace as they inched forward slowly, trying to breathe evenly as Sanders reached the last few meters to the line; the defense wall was right below them, hundreds of meters away. The turrets couldn't reach them but guns would. Seconds from death if they were detected. If Cerberus weren't sleeping on the job, they would have installed spatial sensors and should have known something was moving. It was not however, the plan for them to be stuck like clay pigeons. Below, the hundreds of probes roved in, gathered in large clusters and emitted brief bursts of intense heat. The infiltrators could hear the wail of an alarm and tensed, waiting for the shooting to begin but nothing happened. A green light flashed numerous times on their visors after several long agonizing seconds of silence. Hurriedly, they resumed crawling, picking up the pace. Five meters. Ten meters. Still nothing. They didn't bother to wonder why there was no active response but concentrated on getting to their target.

"There is no energy buildup, they are just active," Liara repeated at Shepard's additional query, as mystified by the subdued reaction of their adversary, as she ran the scan again. The fifth since feedback from the probes showed the turrets racking up and swivelling about, trying to locate the targets their sensors had picked up. With the probes scattered again, there would be nothing for the Cerberus techs to work with. Would they think it was a technical glitch? "They are on their way," she added, "I am moving some of our friends in." If the probes triggered off any sensors, it might add some confusion but strangely, she was not reading any signatures of the expected devices and said as much.

Mulling over that surprising titbit, Shepard looked at the defense wall. "They might not have them in the first place or if they did, they could have taken them apart for parts. Another thing, that line doesn't look solid," she said. It was more of a guess than fact, based on an overall impression of scorched and impacted surfaces.

"No," Liara agreed. "There are numerous gaps. Parts of it seem to be provisional, perhaps they could not complete it in time. I am now seeing personnel. Not all are human or armored. There are prefabs in the compound."

Barracks for the troops, no doubt. Shepard wondered how many more are in the tower. Considering it had been the base of operations for the original Asari mining corporation, it could easily house a few hundred. The mix in personnel was a no brainer too. From Aria's tale on her encounter with Petrovsky, he would be smart enough to use whatever survivors he could lay hands on once he was cut off from Cerberus reinforcements. Whether they would agree to work with him was a moot point; he could always use the control chips or even factor in food supply, perhaps even threaten to put them out in the path of the mutants. And if he was reasonable, he would not put up too much of a fight but they couldn't count on that. Not with that Turian dreadnought sent to relieve the station.

_I sure hope he has a good head screwed on. I don't want to have to make an almighty mess getting in there._

* * *

Looking through the endoscope, Sanders could see that the dingy corridor was deserted. No guards, no turrets, no alcoves. Just the doors to Omega Control. How long the corridor would stay empty remained to be seen as they had no idea of the duty shifts of Cerberus staff but since it was mid-afternoon, station time, it could be a while yet. Turning the scope and zooming at any suspicious devices she could find, she counted two security cameras mounted at opposite ends of the corridor. Tried as she might to look for other telltale signs of other sensor devices, she was turning up nothing. Surely it couldn't be that easy? Cerberus couldn't be relying on just two simple security eyes. She was not sure if she should trust the vanilla aspect of the corridor and ran numerous scans before concluding perhaps it was just as plain as day. The only reason they would not post guards was that they didn't think the mutants would be intelligent enough to sneak in and judging from the squad's brushes with those freaks, she was inclined to agree.

Sitting up, she signed the situation in a series of gestures to Pardew and Garza before retracting the scope into the armguard of her gauntlet. Enabling her tactical cloak, she crouched over the opened hole in the ventilation shaft and held firmly to her colleagues' arms as they lowered her down. Turning, she lent support as Pardew got down, then Garza who went to the doors with Pardew. Drawing her pistol, Sanders shot two darts into the security cameras, putting them out even as Garza began to hack into the control panel of the door and found, to her puzzlement, instead of layers of encryption, there was only a single lock. Pardew was already moving, throwing three small smoke disc grenades before the doors had completely opened and then Sanders followed up with three more as she followed her in. Garza swiftly planted a couple of sensors over the doors before entering.

Through their visors, they saw techs choking and bending over their work stations as they tried to clear their lungs of the acrid smoke. Putting them out quickly with taps to their necks, Pardew and Sanders dragged the unconscious bodies away from the consoles as Garza locked the door and began to place a few mines around the doors. Seating herself before one of the consoles, Sanders tried to access communications but drew a blank. Removing a few probes from the weapons mount on her back, Sanders dropped them on the consoles. Electrical strobes roiled over them as they began to hack through the com system.

"I was expecting a lot more," Pardew looked at the three techs, two men and an Asari, on the floor. "They looked a little ragged, don't they?" she gently turned one of the tech's foot to the side. As she thought, there was a rather large hole in the worn sole of the boot.

"Their buddies cut them off, what do you expect?" Garza snorted, laying the last mine and checking that all was in working order.

"Never thought I'd see an Asari in Cerberus," Pardew added. "What'd you suppose they offered her?"

"Friggin shucks, if I'm running short of friendly bodies in this place, I'd take anyone, even the beachboys," Garza turned to inspect the rest of the room. "And if I were her, trapped out there and brought back here, no way I'd pass up a chance to live."

"Why're you even assuming she's in up to her tentacles? She's likely one of their thralls," Pardew bent over the Asari, lifting an eyelid. "Her eyes are normal," she muttered, her omni-tool flaring as she ran a scan. "Nothing," she sounded almost disappointed.

"Expecting to see a sign "I'm Indoctrinated!" hangin' there?" returned Graza humorously. "You're going to need to cut deeper for that."

"We have company," interrupted Sanders quietly, as the vid of the sensor over the door lit up on her omni-tool. That shut the other two up as they both looked over her shoulder, hands reaching for their weapons. The motion was arrested as they stared at the view from the corridor. "What does it look like to you?"

"Kids?" Pardew frowned.

"Fuck," Garza muttered. "Friggin...how many are there in the base, you think? Turned liked the older ones?" she stared hard into the vid even as the duo; a boy and girl, stood at the door, trays in their hands, the boy reaching for the door panel. "Food delivery. Detain?" she looked at Sanders who nodded after a glance at the console screen; manual input was needed.

"It'll buy us a little more time," Sanders reached for the console keys to complete the link to the Glasgow. "Do it."

* * *

Without a direct link, breaking into the fire walls took longer but she worked as fast as she could with the help of the techs, every minute they took increased the the odds of the dug-in teams being found by roving bands of mutants. She wished she had Glyph with her but she couldn't bring the drone onboard an Alliance cruiser without raising alot of curiosity and questions. All of which might lead to an unfavourable occurance which she and Shepard could do without.

With a little sound of satisfaction, she watched as data began to stream in and set the crawler to sift out specific files, especially logs of the Cerberus commander, Petrovsky. As she worked, she glanced through the data blocks: defense logs, station schedules, supplies, medical, troops, communications, maintenance. It would take days to go through them all but hopefully, there would be some leads on the current Cerberus leadership and bases.

The schematics for the perimeter turrets flashed before her. As they had hoped, the turrets were all tie in to the defense V.I. and running off a feed from the reactor core. Overriding the program and turning off the line to the core would be difficult but not impossible. The turrets could still be fired manually, there were afterall, portable cells but not as effective as with a V.I. in control. With a silent prayer to the Seas, she keyed in the green light after a final check and listened as her bondmate spoke over the Cerberus com net.

"This is Alliance Relief Expedition to General Petrovsky and Cerberus personnel currently based at Omega Control. Your perimeter defenses have been taken offline. We have no desire to start a conflict which will not end well for either of us. We ask that you relinquish authority peacefully. You have five minutes to comply."

That would certainly set the cat among the mice. How would they respond? Five minutes might seemed rather short but that was all Shepard was willing to spare. The first thing they would do was verified whether she was speaking the truth and those three marines sitting at Omega Control would be caught at the end of the short stick. Not least, the children within the base. The latter had been what she had been dreading to find, a boon and a bane.

"They heard you," came Liara's voice over the comlink. "More people are coming out of the prefabs. There is confusion...they do not seem to have any idea what to do. There are...children...," her voice seemed to catch, " babies..."

"Shit," Shepard cursed softly, glanced at her chronometer and mellowed her tone slightly as she tapped into the net again. "You have three minutes. I repeat, we do not want a fight. We know you have children in there. General Petrovsky, I urge you to..." she broke off when something crackled.

"Who is this?!" an incredulous voice broke in. "Who are you?!"

"Alliance Relief Expedition. We are here to resolve certain issues occurring within Omega. You have three minutes to relinquish control."

"What the...," the voice broke off and the com went dead at the other end. Before it did so, she could hear the babble of arguing voices in the background. The sound of it only confirmed her suspicion that there were definitely civilians within the base. She couldn't imagine Cerberus troops having enough autonomy to dissent. Seconds ticked by.

"Two minutes."

The same voice returned, sounding defensive. "What do you want?" Presumably he had moved somewhere else where he was alone for she could no longer hear any voices behind him.

Was he deaf? "We are here to remove Cerberus control over Omega," Shepard said bluntly. "Am I speaking to General Petrovsky?"

"He is not here. I am Major Craidan and Omega will remain under Cerberus jurisdiction," he said firmly.

Shepard wondered if the man had taken a look around him recently. "Major, the extent of Cerberus jurisdiction right now starts from that defense wall to the tower. You have no control over the rest of the station and zero capability to deal with the unleashed experiments running riot. How much longer can you last without aid and reinforcements? You have been cut off for months. You have one minute left to make your decision."

"How do you...," Craidan halted abruptly. "You know a lot," he said, a pinch of anger at his own vulnerability filtering through.

"Major, you have little time left. Either you stand down or we come right in hot," she hardened her voice, she couldn't afford to let him think she wouldn't attack just because there were civilians and children in there.

"If I let you in here, what are you going to do?"

"Major, stand down," she repeated. "You have much to lose by refusing."

A pause. "Very well," he said grudgingly. "We will open the gates when you reach them."

She took a few minutes to pass further orders to Ulros and Aria, listened to Liara's update before cautiously making her way up the street with her squad to the gates of the defense wall. By now, there were people and Cerberus troops lining the top of the wall and a murmur rose and died away when they saw they were really Alliance troops. There were no calls, no cheers but Shepard wasn't expecting any. They reached the gates without incident and she was about to pound on them when they opened inward slowly. The screech of grating metal was loud over her helmet pickups, a sound rarely associated with doors except those constructed of ancient mechanisms.

Not surprisingly, the welcoming party was a squad of Cerberus assault troopers, weapons ready. For a moment, they stood staring at each other until the troopers lowered their guns and fell back. Flicking a signal to the marines behind her, Shepard strolled through them, taking in the surroundings. Grey black patched up prefabs, metal sheets and parts piled up neatly off to the right of the gates, crates stacked in small groups, likely for defense purposes. There was little debris to be seen. Other than the dirt, everything looked orderly.

Looking just as unremarkable as the prefabs was the crowd that stood silently watching the marines. Human, Asari and a sprinkle of Turians. Their clothing were drab, faded and hung off their frames. An air of hunger clung to them, their faces lean and still, their eyes dark. The few children she could see stood warily behind the adults. Shepard was not sure what to make of their absolute silence. Their postures were rigid and yet she felt a simmering pressure from them. Hope and fear. It felt familiar, as if she had encountered it before but she could not remember where. Memory hovered teasingly; flashes of another planet. Behind the marines, the gates creaked shut.

"Follow me," one of troopers said in that nasal tone too often heard over Cerberus com channels and led the way along a crooked path that threaded through prefabs that seemed arranged haphazardly. Shepard recognized the pattern. Should the mutants managed to breach the wall, they would have to wade through a number of obstacles that provide both cover for the defenders and traps for the attackers. From the look of it, no breach had occurred, which spoke well of their perimeter defenses. But how long could they continue to hold it?

The rest of the welcoming party stood at the base of the tower. Mentally, she totaled them up. Thirty-two Cerberus troopers, not counting others that could be in the tower. A man in Cerberus assault armor stood at the forefront of the second squad of assault troopers. Major Craidan, she presumed for of them all, he was the only one who looked anywhere presentable. His armor fairly gleamed compared to the shabby worn outfits of his troops. If he had taken the trouble to rustle up a clean uniform, she'd give him plus points. On the opposite end though, she noted the armor fit snugly on him. No doubt the better rations went to him and the troops.

"State your business," he stood at ease, a haughty disdain in the tilt of his helmeted head when they reached him. The silent crowd gathered behind.

"I understand General Petrovsky was the commanding officer of this garrison," Shepard said evenly, somewhat curious at the quick change of temperament within the space of several minutes it took for her and the squad to get to the tower. The hostility was roiling off him in palpable waves. "What happened to him?"

"He is dead," Craidan said sharply. "I am in command. State your business!"

Ignoring the barked question, she said instead, "How did he die?"

His hands clenched and relaxed. "General Petrovsky died carrying out his duty. That is all you need to know."

Probably gobbled up by the mutants, no prospect of a reunion for Aria who wouldn't be too happy that another target on her list had stolen a march on her. "A pity, I was looking forward to meeing him," she fibbed smoothly. "As to why we are here. For the last time, Major, step aside."

"I will not until I know what you intend to do."

"What I intend is to return Omega to what it once was."

"Is that all? he said with a mocking laugh. "Return Omega to the festering hive of low lifes? It could have been much more! You came here not to save lives, you came here for a cut of the station, didn't you? I'd never thought you'll sink that low, Shepard, to work with someone like Aria T'Loak." The silent crowd stirred when they heard the names.

"Step aside, Major," she was not surprised that he had guessed who she was.

"We made a mistake with you. Should have left you on that planet! Should have let the Collectors and their masters have their way with you. After all the mentor had done for you! The bitch that turned to bite the hand that fed you. You are responsible for everything that happened at Cronos Station, the mentor's destruction, why the others left us to rot here..," he snarled angrily.

"I am not here to account anything to you," she interrupted his diatribe tersely, not in the least interested to hear what he had to say. "You are where you are because you have made your choice."

"And you are where you are now because you made the wrong one!" Moving with the oiled speed of practise, the pistol that was at his side seemed to materialise in his hand that was coming up at her. Anticipating such a move, she was biotically charging forward before his arm had gone past his hip and plowed him off his feet. The pistol flew from his grasp as they impacted against the wall of the tower. Behind them, the crowd finally reacted; they scattered as Foster and the other marines threw smoke grenades at the feet of the Cerberus troops and drew their weapons even as they retreated to covers they had already marked out along the path they had just walked through.

Up along the south-eastern perimeter of the defense wall, Cerberus troops that were bringing up their weapons to bear on the fight at the tower found themselves under attack. Silently and viciously, hands and claws grabbed and stabbed into their backs, tearing them apart. Several of the civilians running that way shouted and screamed in horror when the assailants streamed over the wall, eyes gleaming blue. Frantically, they ran this way and that in a bid to escape the mutants that were certain to do the same to them. Several stood and resigned themselves to death, others cowered with their children hugged tightly to them, the rest dove behind flimsy covers and into the prefabs. The braver souls picked up weapons from racks outside the prefabs, ready to fight but found they had no targets to fire on. Too close and too fast, they could only stand staring in astonishment as claws swatted the guns away instead of impaling them. An angry howl and snarl into terrified faces, and the mutants were leaping off elsewhere.

With less terror-induced display, Ulros and his squad made the same attack on the north-west wall though with more caution as their squad was down by three. Quick pistols shots after they climbed to the top of the wall dispatched a number of troopers before the rest returned fire. The exchange was fast and furious, biotics flared here and there, a couple of marines suffered minor wounds when they couldn't get out of the way of a grenade fast enough but they cleared the wall. Much as he would like to help in the fight at the tower, Ulros had his orders. He set the squad out to guard the perimeter. All the ruckus might just invite attention of an unwanted sort and that they must avoid at all cost for the moment.

Prepared for the hard slam, Shepard recovered quickly and reached for her assault rifle, turning to shoot at the troopers on her right even as she let herself fall backward. A fusillade zipped past above her as two troopers fell from her shots. Three dropped from the unexpected friendly fire. Twisting to her left, she let the rifle spew a rain of ammunition at the incidental 'allies' who were just a tad slow in correcting their mistake. One trooper's head exploded, another fell clenching his chest, the rest managed to dodge for cover. Foster and the other marines were quick to pounce on them.

A roar. "_**Bitch**_!"

Out of the corner of her visor, she saw Craidan leaping for her. Turning her rifle around, she struck the butt under his chin as he reached for the weapon even as he came down on her raised knee. His middle bent as his head went sideways, breath driven out of him. Rolling, she got to her feet and was hit from behind before she could shoot Craidan. The electrical field from the trooper's baton was biting and painful but she swung around and the trooper went reeling; dead from a point blank shot. Turning back, she staggered as a punch landed on her helmet. The gleam of a blade in Craidan's hand as he moved in to gut her a warning to dodge. It barely missed her but he didn't miss with his biotic throw.

He could have just shot her as she flew back against the wall of the tower. There was a rifle was on his back but he didn't reach for it. No, he wanted to cut her open. That was what he wanted, she knew, as he charged in. Fine, hand to hand then. Unwise and ridiculous as it was, both of them in armor but since he started it, she would finish it. She rolled out of the way, snicking her own rifle on her back and lashed out with her foot, catching him in the side. He grunted but came barreling up, attempting to snag her by the neck. She struck his hand aside with a quick dodge. Striking exchanges took place as she evaded all his bids to grapple, managing to land blows of her own on him but as unsuccessful in getting a grasp on him as well. He was just as slippery and quick as her.

After several minutes, she could tell his failure in pinning her down was enraging him. The swipes of his knife was getting desperate and more vicious as he tried every means to get a chance to nick it past her armor. Even though she knew she was hurting him, thanks to the enhanced armor, revenge and fury was driving him, rendering him oblivious to the pain. She could have ended it quickly, Liara would tell her to shoot but fair play, even under such circumstances, and pride refused to let her. She would have to take him down with her bare hands and it would have to be done in the next few minutes, she was getting tired and sweat was threatening to obscure her vision despite the lining absorbers. She probably would have to put her armor through a few cleaning cycles later.

Perhaps that was his strategy, wear her down. Exhaustion would create mistakes. She tried to see past his visor as they exchanged another flurry of blows but saw only her reflection and heard his heavy angry breathing. Time to end it. His error to let emotions take over the driver's seat. Her feet stumbled and she wobbled as if unsteady, he was quick to seize it, leaping in for the killing embrace, knife ready. Only to find his arm taken and twisted. Focusing all her strength into it, she gave it a hard jerk and he screamed as his arm broke. Releasing it, she skipped back quickly, breathing hard as he bent over, broken arm dangling by his side, the blade down on the ground.

"It's over, Major," she said. "Stand down."

"Never..," he rasped. "You have to kill me...bitch."

Before she could answer, an Asari in tattered armor strode up. Without a word, her biotics flared and as quick as lightning, she speared Craidan through his chest with her arm. For a moment, he hung there, not a sound from him before he collapsed limply. Pulling her gory arm away, the Asari looked at it before turning to face a stunned Shepard. Her blue eyes seemed to glow brightly.

"Done."

* * *

**Author note : Very wordy. I know. Slow and heavy. I was fiddling, fiddling, not exactly sure which road to take. *shrug***

**Anyways, Happy Holidays and Happy New Year to all. :)**


	47. Chapter 47

**Words to note**

**Asari Adage : Sie'ai'vies'es Shairio (Tear the heart, scorn the fire, cradle the pain, lest Shairio walks again)**

* * *

Impossible. What she did was impossible. To impale someone, with biotics? The only ones with such abilities were Reaper mutated Ardat-Yakshi. Just what the hell was Cerberus tinkering with? Shepard was not sure she wanted to know. A blip over the comlink distracted her though she did not take her gaze off the Asari who returned her stare coolly.

"Captain, Skewer 1, we've having a siege up here. Squad of nine trying to break in," said Sanders. "I don't think they care about making a mess."

"Foster, see to the civilians. Half the squad with me." Shepard ran up to the doors of the tower, hacking through as Foster swiftly split up the squad; half to keep an eye on their strange allies and the civilians, the rest to go with Shepard.

The doors snapped open as Shepard took cover by the side, the other marines plastering themselves similarly opposite her, peering in cautiously. At first glance, she saw neatly racked pallets, blankets, crates, clothing and various debris in what used to be the lobby. Elevators stood at the left and the right with a door presumably leading to the stairs. No sign of any troopers. Adjusting her helmet sensor settings to maximum, she stepped in and headed straight towards the door. Judging from the muffled thunder of weapons coming over her helmet pickups, speed was of essence if she wanted Operations to remain intact. Her pace was fast but she was on the alert for booby traps.

She didn't bother to disarm the mines her helmet sensors picked up as they advanced, a volley from her rifle at a safe distance was enough to remove them. The explosion lost in the sounds of the seige going on in the upper levels which grew louder and louder as they neared the top level. Just as they reached the landing at the top of the stairs, there was a tremendous explosion. Knowing the doors must have been breached, Shepard pounded through the doorway but someone was even faster. She didn't have time to see who it was but leapt into the corridor to see bodies on the floor and troopers getting tossed one way or another at the broken doors. It was doubtful they even knew what was attacking them. One by one, they fell like trampled dolls carelessly tosssed aside. The Asari stood like an avenging Valkyrie over their corpses.

"Is there anything else I should know about?" queried Shepard matter-of-factly as she approached her slowly.

Miona shrugged, spreading her hands. "This is all that I am. Now."

"I am Shepard."

"I know," Miona nodded. "I am Miona."

Up close, Shepard noted that though she was lean, she was hardly breathing heavily despite the exertion she had just gone through in putting down a score of troopers. Facial markings were barely visible and she looked off-colour. She was not sure what to make of the black streaks creeping up the Asari's neck but they reminded her uncomfortably of those she had seen on someone else's face. The lamentable late Illusive Man. Was she indoctrinated or not? A question that would have to be handled later. Right then, she was not getting any vibe of malevolence from Miona.

Stepping through the gaping hole of the entrance to Omega Control, she was glad to note that the infiltration squad was intact. Sitting on the floor beside them was another Asari in faded clothing, behind them, the bodies of two men. Two small heads peered out from behind a desk at the back of the room.

"No damage to hardware, Ma'am," Sanders saluted.

"I'm more concern with software," returned Shepard.

"Hale and hearty. Not a speck on us," declared Sanders before gesturing to the sitting Asari. "Thanks to Bethia. She threw up a shield barrier when those morons blew the doors."

"Bethia," Shepard squatted to have a better look at her. Emaciated as the other civilians but her eyes were clear. "My thanks. I'm Captain Shepard."

"No, I should thank you instead. I...it's been so long, we've almost given up hope," Bethia said helplessly. "You'll take us away from here, yes?" she pleaded hopefully.

"Whoever is left," Shepard offered her hand to pull her up. "Do you know if there are other survivors in the other districts?"

Bethia shook her head, rocking slightly on her feet as a wave of dizziness swept over her and smiled when Shepard steadied her. "I'm sorry, no. Once Cerberus lost control, nothing has ever been heard from the other outposts."

"And how did you come to be here?" came a cool voice. Shepard turned to see Aria strolling in regally. She didn't think Foster would be able to hold the pirate queen and had been expecting her. There was no suspicion in Aria's voice, only curiosity.

"I don't have a choice, do I? Either I work with them or I can resign myself to die out there," said Bethia bitterly. "Though I didn't think Omega would be a good place for a home but it was better than the animosity I faced at the human colony. That was before I came here."

"You are not a resident of Omega?" Shepard thought perhaps that was why Bethia didn't seem to recognise Aria.

"No. I had to flee when the Reapers began to invade Selvos, the colony I grew up in," a shiver passed Bethia as she recalled the sight of the alien machines. "The others who managed to make it out with me, we were evacuated to refugee stations. One of which was a human colony. We thought we would have to shift from place to place in the months that followed but fortunately, the war was over before the system was invaded. We had no where to go but thought we could make a new home but the humans...they were not happy when we arrived. When the war was over, they wanted us to leave. They didn't like ..aliens. It was because of Alliance presence in that system, I suspect, that they were amiable initially. But once the Alliance forces withdrew after the war, they became cold and then outright hostile. We had difficulty acquiring supplies and tried to negotiate with them, but they stated adamantly that they wanted us off and refused to work with us. There were no ships, there was nothing we could do."

"Who were the others with you?" Shepard had an idea just which human colony Bethia was talking about.

"They came from many other colonies that had fallen to the Reapers. About thirty or so were from Selvos."

"What happened then?"

"There was no way to make contact with the Alliance or the Council. They refused to let us use the communications array in the colony. So we make do with what we had but it was difficult when materials were scarce. Then one day, they told us commerce had been established and trading ships would be making port. They said we should be prepared to leave on those ships which would first bring us to Omega from where we could arrange for other transports to take us where we wish," anger flashed Bethia's eyes at that lie. "We were only too glad to go, never realising that Omega was not the place we thought it would be."

"All of you to Omega? How many?" Aria asked sharply.

"There were perhaps two thousand or more refugees on that colony. I'm not sure if everybody came here but that was what they said. I left in the sixth transport."

"When did they start to send people off?" said Shepard.

"I can't remember...," a frown creased Bethia's brow as she tried to recall. "Not the exact date but I have been here for nearly two years. I think."

"What was the situation here when you arrived?"

"The station was already over run with mutants. The captain of the trading ship that transported us dumped us at the docking bay with a large consignment of crates and left very quickly. We didn't know what had happened, why there was no one to receive us and then...," Bethia choked, unable to speak as memories assailed her. Impulsively, Pardew reached out to pat her gently on the back. Swallowing hard, Bethia continued, "Then we were attacked by creatures. There was no place to run to, they just swarmed over us. I thought I was going to die but then, General Petrovsky arrived with Cerberus troops and managed to save the rest of us."

"Of course he would," Garza muttered and shut up when Pardew nudged her.

"I know, he was there to get the supply shipment," Bethia shrugged. "But he did bring us back here instead of leaving us there."

"Was the Cerberus contingent larger then?"

"Yes," nodded Bethia. "There were about a hundred more but then, General Petrovsky tried to keep the few remaining outposts up and sent out troops with supplies. They never returned. One by one, all the other outposts fell silent. Many of the Cerberus staff did not survive so I volunteered to help since I have technical training. The General tried to contact Cerberus headquarters but there was no response. There were no ships we could escape in so the General said we would have to try to hold on because he believed the people he worked for would not abandon the troops."

"Typical loyalist," Aria shook her head wryly.

Shepard was inclined to agree. "What happened to Petrovsky?"

"He went to get the next supply shipment a few months later. The last incidentally for no more ships came. He and the troops that went with him, didn't return. Command fell to his... aide," a cold note entered Bethia's voice as if she couldn't bear to speak the name.

"Major Craidan," Shepard forbore to ask what was it about Craidan that Bethia didn't like. "Can you give me a run down of the survivors?" she said as Bethia nodded.

"There are about two hundred and fifty of us, including the children. Two-thirds are residents of Omega, the rest are refugees. When troop numbers fell, the General asked for volunteers to man the turrets and maintain the base."

"Any change in rations?"

"There were EH-rations and paste but they ran out. Then it was an energy bar a day after General Petroskvy died. Before that, we had access to hydroponics down on the third level of the tower."

"Had?" Shepard said sharply.

"The Major decided that the troops had to have better rations to repel any attacks," Bethia said bitterly. "There was more than enough to spare," her eyes flashed angrily, "but he thought otherwise. We had to find other supplements," she grimaced. Shepard supposed they had been catching and eating rodents.

"No medical personnel?"

"A Dr Hurlman and a few assistants. There is a med lab on the second level but there is little medical supplies."

"Thank you," Shepard touched her lightly on the arm. "You've been very helpful. For now," she looked at her squad, "Canavan, bring those two men and the children down to the ground floor and check them over. Sanders, locate any other personnel below this floor and have them all gathered in the compound."

"Are we getting off this station soon?" Bethia asked eagerly as the marines moved to carry out the order. Pardew clicked softly to the children who emerged willingly enough to grasp her hands and they followed the others out of the room. No one noticed Miona had already left.

"Yes, a moment," Shepard put up a hand to halt any more questions, "stay here, I may have need of further help," she said before gesturing to Aria.

"So Petrovsky managed to bail," faint annoyance tinged Aria's voice as she followed Shepard to the farthest corner of the room where they could talk privately.

"Disappointed?'

"Immensely," snorted Aria, "when hunger is not satisfied," she crossed her arms. "You refused it even though opportunity presents itself."

Shepard shook her head. "I've more than enough to last several lifetimes and most of it...," she looked away with a sigh before turning back. "Now that we are here, have you decided?"

"Obliteration," Aria shrugged when Shepard only looked at her. It had been one of several expediencies she had been harboring in the years spent waiting and planning to retake Omega. One of the least probable options crunched about in the numerous deliberations held weeks ago at the Citadel. A broad broom to sweep and cleanse. The fastest, easiest and most thorough method. If it worked. If not, all the effort they had gone through would go up spectacularly in one swift stroke. Not a result she particularly looked forward to but the appalling condition of the space station had forced her to reconsider. Steeped in unknown bio hazards for more than two years, it would take years, perhaps decades to remove all traces of it. The foothold she had envisioned would not come about soon, having a viral contagion cropping up in the midst of rebuilding would be detrimental.

A tiny smile crooked Shepard's lips though Aria couldn't see it, hidden behind her helmet breathing mask. The pirate queen was prepared to gamble. Win or lose, she would start with a clean slate though Aria probably wouldn't think of it that way. Omega was too large an ambition for her to see anything else. Or was it?

Realising Aria was waiting for her reply, she said,"Then we'll send the techs after a month to see to it. Or would you prefer to have your own men handle it?"

"Why would I do that when it's part of the package?" Aria smirked as she turned away and tossed another statement over her shoulder. "Do you really think your fine metal friends are able to sniff out more survivors?"

Was that a bite of acid at the reference to the Geth? "They will try," Shepard said firmly. Whether Aria was as similarly cynical as the opposition about the reliability of the Geth, it was of no issue if she wished to have her possession back as soon as possible. "One month, Aria. One month to locate them."

"I question your faith in the machines."

Not inclined to beat a futile round concerning the Geth, Shepard switched tack. "How far would you trust Miona and her cohort?"

"They're more volatile, dangerous, but on the same footing as the other survivors. No more, no less. Whatever dispositions are made," Aria said in sombre warning, "their existence is a tangle coil of complications."

"I'm aware of that," Shepard said dryly.

"Moguls and flesh eaters have always been hedgy than they are, don't you think?"

"Do you have any suggestions?"

Aria didn't say anything for a while, seeming to be in deep thought. "Patriarch is with them."

"Patriarch?" Shepard recalled the old Krogan she had helped years back, pulled from the throne of Omega by Aria in her bid to gain control and reduced to wandering the lower clubs as a tale spinner. "I'm surprised he left you standing."

"He didn't," Aria chuckled at the human's start of surprise. "Or he didn't want to, someone gave him a better reason not to."

"And?"

"They want nothing more than to start afresh elsewhere."

"I understand that but...," Shepard hesitated.

"It will happen. I will make it happen," Aria leaned in, so close Shepard could see the intense gaze of her eyes through her helmet visor, "and so will you. We travel on the same road, you can't deny that," she turned and strolled out of the room, leaving a wide-eyed Bethia to stare after her.

"Who is that?" she said as Shepard came up to her.

"Someone with a ego as big as this station," Shepard said with humour, "I need you to continue to monitor the defense perimeter while the evac ships gets here which shouldn't be long now," she turned to one of the consoles, bringing up the command index. "Power has been restored."

Seating herself at another console, Bethia confirmed it. "How're we suppose to get across to the docking bay?" she shuddered at the thought of traversing through the district.

"We don't. There's an emergency airlock at the top," Shepard called up the schematics of the tower, pointing out the exit to her.

"Why didn't you...," began Bethia, "oh but you couldn't," she corrected herself. "You couldn't be sure they had done something to that entrance."

"Not a good idea to funnel through an area as small as that and," Shepard waved at the consoles, "we couldn't risk collateral damage to hardware."

"What's going to happen to this place?" said Bethia curiously. "Is the Alliance going to take over now?"

"No, we're going to lock down and seal off this tower. After that, we'll try look for survivors in the other districts..."

"Survivors?" interrupted Bethia incredulously, "I'm sorry, captain but that doesn't seem likely."

"I understand. Nevertheless, we have to try because we're repurposing the discharge of the reactor core a month from now."

"Repurpose...but how, why...," Bethia trailed off, confused.

"To kill off all organic lifeforms on this station," Shepard nodded sombrely as comprehension lit Bethia's eyes. "Down to the smallest microbe."

"I see. Is that even possible? The amount of radiated energy could destroy the entire station."

"I'm no engineer but there's a possibility the amount of saturation can be controlled. Besides," Shepard added, "it's not my call."

"It's that Asari, Aria, isn't it?" Bethia guessed. "If the Alliance isn't going to take over this station, why..."

"Long story but let's just say we've an agreement. I don't...," Shepard broke off as faint panicked screaming was heard. Her comlink crackled, "Captain, we've a situation at med lab on level two!" Sanders reported curtly, Shepard could hear someone begging and Aria speaking aloud. What was going on down there?

"Can you show me the way to med lab?" she said to Bethia who sprang up immediately. They hurried down the corridor, the flight of stairs and emerged at a cluttered doorway to the second floor. Large decals on the wall declared they were on the administrative level. Down the passage they jogged, then a left turn. Shepard could hear voices but not what they were saying. Another turn, and another.

"Put him down!" Sander's order came loudly and clearly as they approached a set of large opened doors. Archives, the sign outside read. Shepard pulled up short at the sight when she stepped in. Dangling in the air, gasping for breath was a balding man dressed in a labcoat. Ignoring the assault rifles Sanders and the other marines had trained on her, Miona flexed her hand and looked pleased when the man wheezed in agony, his face screwed up in his pain, his colour was dreadfully pallid and sweat streamed off him. Off to one side, Aria stood looking on.

"Goddess," breathed Bethia in horror behind Shepard.

Shepard waved Sanders to silence when the marine noticed her presence, then gestured to the rest to fall back. "Miona?" she took a step forward.

"Human, what would you do to such a one who held the knife and changed you into a tool with no self-will? When you are no more than dirt beneath his feet?" releasing her hand slightly, Miona watched as the man gulped frantically for air.

So that was what it was. The fellow was one of the researchers working for Cerberus. It also explained why Aria was making no attempt to interfere. Even if the man wasn't Cerberus, she wasn't sure the pirate queen would or even if she did, would be able to talk Miona down. "End him," Shepard said frankly, "quickly." The man's eyes bulged in terror and he tried to shake his head.

"Should I?" Miona smiled as she cut off the man's air again. Held immobile in the generated biotic field, he could only work his mouth futilely, nostrils flaring frantically.

"Miona...I can never understand your pain, what you've gone through but there is something you have to consider...," Shepard took a deep breath. "Sie'ai'vies'es Shairio."

That snapped Miona's cold gaze to her, along with Aria's. Not expecting her to sprout an Asari adage, they stared at her in astonishment. If possible, the cold glint in Miona's eyes became even more chilly as the impact of her using the old formal orthoepy hit home. She may not like it but Shepard knew every Asari would know of whom she spoke of. It was not a subject the Asari particularly would want to talk about or even be reminded of but then, it was part of their history, their culture and denying it would be turning away from the nature of their existence. Not something she would even think of bringing up under normal circumstances. However, Miona's displeasure was a good sign.

"You...dare to...," her outrage put Shepard further at ease. "Your bondmate is very fortunate," Miona muttered, looking away before turning back to her victim. Without warning, her hand closed. There was an audible crunch and the man ceased his fight to breathe. Tossing his body aside, Miona glanced contemptuously at the med lab assistants cowering behind the med tables. "I'll leave the rest to your authority," she said as she passed Shepard.

"Profound," quipped Aria as she followed her. "Remember what I said," she added softly.

"So who was that man?" Shepard said to Bethia after they had vanished out of sight.

"Dr Hurlman," Bethia couldn't help staring at Shepard, trying to stifle her immense curiosity. "He was already here, with the others, when I arrived. Didn't talk much. Kept to himself mostly except when there were medical cases. I just assumed he was a medic assigned to the Cerberus garrison. How long have you been bonded?" the question leapt out in spite of herself.

"Um...six, seven years thereabouts," Shepard felt homesick suddenly and wished she was back on the Glasgow with Liara, better yet, back on Thessia. "Sanders, get the rest to the compound. I'll be down shortly to brief the survivors. Come on," she said to Bethia, "we have a lot of work to do."

* * *

It took a few days to get all of the survivors into the medical transports and for the Alliance techs and engineers to install shield generators, new sensors, calibrate the V.I. for the turrets, strengthened the defense perimeter and sealing off the tower. The last to leave the station, she made one final check before sealing the door of the emergency airlock of the tower behind her and made her way through the docking tube to the medical transport.

The scanners at the other end ran a quick decontamination cycle on her before she was allowed onboard. The soft voice of a V.I. instructed her to disrobe once she exited the airlock. After transferring all the data into a triple encrypted datapod, she removed her omni-tool and tossed it into the incinerator to be destroyed. Days spent working, sleeping and eating in her armor made her more than glad to shuck it off with her body suit, inner catchpockets bulging with body wastes, and dunked herself under a hot shower, even if the water smelt strongly of pharmaceuticals, before walking naked through a small room to be thoroughly bathed in rays that both scanned and cleansed. A medtech handed her a towel and a simple coverall in the next room before showing her to a isolation cell where she would have to dwell for a day. Or more, pending results of another scan.

Putting away the datapod in the pocket of her coverall, she sat down at the simple console in the cell and made a call to the primary medical transport for updates on the problem group. It was too soon for the old man or the Council to come to a decision but she wanted to know if there were any incidents over the last few days. To her relief, the chief medical staff doctor who took the call reported that the group was cooperative though their obvious manifestation of Reaper cybernetics and indoctrination had caused much unease among the staff. Due to the nature of their augmentations, they had been separated from the other surviors from the Cerberus base and accommodated on a different level under tight security.

She didn't bother to try to correct the doctor on his assumption of indoctrination and thanked him instead for the update. Sitting back in her chair, she wasn't sure exactly what she could do to help them at this point, despite Aria's belief that she could. That they were fully cognizant would have to be determined though in regards to Miona, there was no issue in that aspect. At least, for the time being. Their enhanced abilities was the next stumbling block to immediate resettlement. Drumming her fingers on the armrest of the chair, she weighed options and then sighed. On a positive note, the Alliance marines had come off it almost unscathed saved for a few injuries. The exception being Aria's mercenaries but the pirate queen didn't seem troubled by the lost; she had bigger problems in the shape of the Patriarch.

A look at the chronometer told her it was late into the night on the Glasgow; Liara would be resting. Throwing herself onto the single bunk, she elected to catch up on sleep that had been sorely lacking for the last few days. Twenty-four hours later, she regretted not making the call.

Snip. Snip. Snip. Whirrr.

Locks of red hair fell over her face but she didn't try to sweep them away. Not with the grumpy air the wielder was exhibiting. Opening her mouth right then might just provoked her into giving her a bristly head. She settled for blowing softly as the curls came falling down, in an unsuccessful bid to move them to a distance from her face. There was no mirror before her in which she could see the work in progress but she had implicit trust in Liara's skills. So she sat on the chair, in the shower room of their cabin, patiently enduring the itchy pricklings of hair that had slipped into her coverall.

After what seemed like a long intermittent of shifting about, Liara said over her shoulder. "Done." Before she had cleared her eyes, she knew her bondmate had exited the shower room. The first thing she did was to look into the wall mirror and a sigh of relief escaped when she saw the neat sharp cut. Running her hand through her hair which felt lighter, she recalled the mess Liara had made in her first attempt to trim her hair and how she had ended up with an untidy thistly stack of hay on top. Ignoramus in hair fashion she might be, even Liara knew she had made a crock of it and was mortified whereas she had said nothing but had gone quietly to a professional barber thereafter with most of her hair shoved under her Alliance cap that managed to hide the damage.

_Those lessons she took really paid off._

Peeping through the opened door, she saw Liara seated at the desk. It didn't look like she was going to join her in her shower. No matter. Turning, she stripped off the coverall, dumped the chair outside and turned on the water. Using her foot, she swept the locks on the floor into a pile before throwing them into the bin. Ship regulations restricted the desire to luxuriate but she took pleasure in the the smell of scented shower gel which was heavenly, expunging the unpleasant odour of the medical bath that had clung to her. Throwing on a T-shirt, she sat on the bunk, toweling her hair dry, wondering if Liara would finally deign to talk.

When nothing happened, she reached for the new omni-tool the quartermaster had gotten for her and transferred over all the contents in the datapod before adjusting the settings to her liking. On looking up when she was finally satisfied, Liara was still tapping away at the console. Gloomily, she wondered just how far she had upset her. There was nothing coming through their link leading her to wonder if Liara had put up a barrier. Laying down on the bunk, she watched her. The cant of her head spoke volumes of her concentration in whatever she was doing. Perhaps dragging her to the shower room had been one of her auto-modes in her 'to-do' list. She had been, after all, bringing up the subject of her tresses getting longer.

"Shepard."

"What?!" she snapped awake instantly, realising she had fallen asleep.

"We are going to Ilos," said Liara, sitting beside her.

"Oh yeah, Ilos...," she muttered, still befuddled. "..why Ilos?"

"Here," Liara handed her a datapad, "read this."

Pushing herself up, she leaned against the headboard and took the datapad as Liara continued. "There is also a stack of messages you will want to check. First and foremost are those from Module, Miranda and Dr Chakwas. One from Javik. Another from Admiral Langdon. Several from your trainees on Thessia..."

"Whoa..whoa...hold on, let me get this," Shepard held up a hand to stop the flow, focusing on the message from Admiral Roux. "What the hell...in a force field...what's that stupid Salarian up to now?" she muttered as she scrolled through the contents.

"Apparently he tried to break through the ciphers and triggered a security protocol that erected a force field around the archives."

"Protection against unauthorised intrusion," Shepard nodded, "at least they were cautious enough not to try live fire at it...huh...Vigil isn't responding..."

"It is responding," corrected Liara, "they just have no idea what it is saying when they tried to communicate with it. Translators do not work."

"Gibberish?" Shepard put down the datapad to look quizzically at Liara. "Its language cognition program could be damaged."

"Read the message from Javik," prompted Liara.

Shepard's eyebrows went up as she opened Javik's email. "They called him in?" she said in amazement. "And he has no idea what Vigil is spouting either but...," her eyes widened. "You're kidding. He says it sounds like an ancient formulaic tongue...why are they even looking at me?" she exclaimed. "I don't have any credentials in ancient...ancient Prothean languages."

"No but they thought, the Council thought as well, that since you did manage to break through to Vigil, perhaps you can do it again."

"Damn, just as well I said nothing about the Cipher in my reports..can you imagine how much credibility I would have in a situation like this?" Shepard tossed the datapad aside.

"Saying nothing has the same effect as well..."

"I know, I know," sighed Shepard, running her hand through her hair. "Ten to one, they also guessed I locked up the archives."

"It is the right thing to do," stated Liara firmly. "I have been searching for any references to ancient Prothean text and possibilities of bringing down the force field by other means but so far," she shook her head at her failure. "I think the force field is the same defense field I triggered in that Prothean dig site on Therum."

"Great, those poor sods have to be starving by now.."

"Which is why we are on our way to Ilos..," Liara reached for the datapad but Shepard caught her hand instead. "You have not read the rest of the messages," she chided as her bondmate kissed her fingers.

"Leave it for a few hours, I missed you..," Shepard leaned forward but Liara halted her with a hand. "What?"

"There is still the matter of that ... fight you had with the Cerberus major. Why bother?"

"Geez, don't tell me you're mad over that...," began Shepard.

"Do you know what it was like, watching that man try to cut you open?" Liara said icily. "And you just accomodate him when you could have ended it quickly."

"It's...," Shepard tried to find words to try to explain why she had chosen to fight Craidan and failed. "Aw, c'mon Liara, you know how it is..."

"What was it that you said about Aria? Ego as big as the station, was it not? What do you say about yours?"

"That's not fair..I..." began Shepard and blinked when Liara pulled her down onto the bunk before climbing over her. It was then she realised her bondmate was dressed in a soft robe.

"For putting me through that long moment of anxiety, you need to be punished."

"Really..how..," her next words vanished as Liara kissed her and her breath came a little faster as hands slide under her shirt even as hers reached out to pull the robe apart, only to have them entangled when Liara pulled her shirt off. The next moment, she found she couldn't move her hands at all. "Hey..," she didn't finish the sentence and she closed her eyes at the electrifying sensation of the soft kisses along her throat and her nerves went on the alert as lips moved down. Light fingers trailed lazily over her stomach and dipped lower.

"Punishment," the whisper over her breasts sent a shiver through her and she could only moan as finally, Liara dropped the barrier she had been putting up, sweeping her away in a fiery flaming wave of desire.


	48. Chapter 48

**Words of note**

**sumaq - a type of tuber vegetable native to Palaven**

**torquats - a voracious six-legged herbivore native to Palaven**

* * *

**Local Cluster, Earth, Citadel Tower**

There hardly seemed to be any change. Strolling slowly down the passageway, memories assailed him; the wailing of the alarm, muffled explosions, clouds of smoke from spreading fires, bodies that lay sprawled everywhere. His own breath rattling noisily within his helmet, the weight of the sniper rifle in his hands and the tension that gripped him so tightly that he feared he would freeze at the wrong moment. Then, in the midst of the smoke, he saw the familiar silhouettes and all hell broke loose. He blinked. The passageway was pristine as if nothing had happened before. Shaking his head, he climbed the steps.

Seven years it had been when he had last stepped foot in the Council Chambers. Leaning against the railing, he stared dreamily at the flowering spray of the fountain, a fine cool mist bellowing from the base. At this very spot, he had spoken to Executor Pallin before having that brief dialogue with a human who had regarded him with suspicion though her demeanor had been polite. Then, she was just like every other human he had seen around the space station. A slight notch above, given that she was a soldier but there had been an intriguing air of presence about her which he had noted but not paid much attention to; his attention had been taken up with the investigation he had been tasked with.

It was the start. The catalyst that transformed his life and started him on a journey that turned him inside out. Without her, he would not have achieved what he had, would not have understood what he was and what he could do. He would not be standing where he was today. It seemed like a dream sometimes, when he thought about it. He wished she was on the station, truth be told, her absence was dearly felt after they had gone their separate ways after the war. If he had known that she was in need of support, he would have dropped everything and gone to her. Even if Liara had said it wouldn't have done any good, still, he would want to be there for her, just as she had been there for him when he had been deep in the pits.

"What are you thinking of, Vakarian?" said someone behind him.

Turning his head, his eyes gleamed and his jaw flaps twitched in appreciation at the attire she wore; a simple but elaborate knee-length tunic with slightly flaring shoulders, finely woven pants over soft boots. The colours and style accented the luster of her skin and the face tattoo. "I met her here. This was where it all began," he turned to look at the spot, just a few paces from the top of the stairs. For a moment, ghostly effigies stood there. "I haven't been doing my best for her."

"You're too hard on yourself, I'm sure she is well aware of the tasks to surmount," she touched his shoulder lightly. "As do most of us."

"Well, I sent her an email," he snorted. "So much to say and all I could put in was ...something stupid and mundane."

"Garrus Vakarian," she turned his face fully to her. "Perhaps it is better to speak of them when next you see her."

Exactly what he had been thinking but it didn't seem possible.. "It'll probably take years," he shrugged helplessly. "Our paths are not going to cross that soon, Lemilia."

"And they will cross," she said firmly, "does it matter when?" she added as she gestured to the stairs. "Shall we move on?"

Chuckling at her impatience, he headed for the stairs that led to the ante gardens. Climbing the steps easily, he sniffed appreciatively for the air was permeated with the light scent of flowers. Blazing in brilliance in artfully placed lights, trees held up their crowns with pride as unseen birds within the foliage crooned and trilled softly. Walking along the path that wound through the garden, he could only marvel at the restoration and was glad he was not alone in the appreciation. Studying his wife out of the corner of his eye, he was pleased to see that she was enraptured.

"It's been so long, I've forgotten the smallest spirits that shared this life with us," she whispered and he followed her gaze. Nestled high above was an Asari Qiori, its sparkling iridescence wings folded against its body. A male, judging from the amber-tipped tail. It looked down at them, unafraid. Such birds, he knew, were highly prized for their intelligence and their beautiful, complex song weaving.

"When was the last time either of us took a moment to breathe?" he said softly.

"Too long," she said sadly, thinking of the years both of them spent on board military ships before he had gone on to the Citadel but she had remained with the fleet. "Is it usually so deserted?" she added, resuming her stroll and glanced at the empty benches beneath several trees.

Now that she mentioned it, there was hardly anyone to be seen. Petitioners, politicians and the occasional tourists that would customarily wander around the gardens were absent. "Not usually no," he eyed the Keeper marching ahead of them. Seeing it made him wonder for the umpteenth time if the enigmatic Keepers were sentient enough to realise that their masters were dead. "There are a few reasons why there's no one around," he picked up his pace, skirting the Keeper. "Let's head up to the Petitioner's Stage."

"Perhaps a momentous galactic event is taking place," she guessed, half-jokingly.

He winced. "I sincerely hope not. The last time that happened, we were nearly stomped into the ground."

"That is quite an audience," she said when they had moved clear of the last line of trees. He saw what she meant at once. From the second landing to the top, it was jammed with people looking towards the Petitioner's Stage. The implications of such a gathering was disturbing and his stride lengthened. Near his height, she kept abreast easily, her jaw flaps clenched tightly as she sensed trouble. His unease increased as they approached the stairs; the crowd was altogether too silent. No one was speaking to anyone, all attention was focused on a voice that they could now hear.

"...cannot sustain the growth and prosperity that we sought. Respectfully, we ask for broad dissemination of the solution."

Solution? Solution to what? The flanging in the tone gave away the identity of the speaker and he wondered which Turian politician was trying to get the ante up on Sparatus. There was no possibility that they could make their way to the front, so tightly packed was the press of the crowd before them. A glance at the viewing galleries revealed they were as similarly filled.

"Solution. A piece of fabrication of no substance," came Sparatus's dismissive voice. "Much less your deceptive petition."

"Beneath every deception is the truth. An undeniable fact!"

"This course of action is illegal," Valern's high-pitched voice was distinctive. "The Council will not condone such duplicity. Your petition is dismissed."

"Are we just to sit by idly by when you have been withholding information that could eliminate the plague that have been eating away at us all? How many more must die before you act to remove the TI entirely?!" the petitioner's anger was clear in his biting tone.

Spirits! There was a solution? The rumble that rose from the crowd echoed his amazement. It swiftly turned to incredulity and anger as onlookers began to speak to friends, neighbours. Was there truth in the petitioner's words?

"Present your evidence," said someone whose voice he didn't recognise, it wasn't Tevos's. He supposed it belonged to the newly elected Human representative. Councilor Flewinne, if he remembered correctly. The post had remained empty since Udina's death. Such was the mire of human affairs, despite Admiral Hackett's overwhelming superiority in dealing with the TI on Earth, that they hadn't appointed anyone since. Leaving Hackett the de facto emissary. Until now.

"You know where the evidence is. On Sur'Kesh!"

"If that is all you have to say, the more ludicrous and crooked is your intent," said Sparatus coldly.

"There is a witness I dare you to deny. I call on Shepard!"

The murmurings grew louder at that name.

"Captain Shepard has duties to attend to than to answer your demented charges," returned Sparatus.

"I was here, the day she spoke of Saren's treachery. I was here when she warned you of the Reapers. What did you say then?!" shouted the petitioner. "You dismissed all her charges, you ignored them and you hid the truth of the Reapers from us. It was only when they came upon us that you started to spread the truth. By then, it was already too late. Billions died. If not for Shepard, we would have all died. Now she has found an answer to the TI question, you are silencing her again! How much more blood must you drench yourself with before you're satisfied?!"

The murmurings became a roar. Hooting, whistles and shouting began to rise from all corners of the chambers as questions were flung at the Councilors. Quickly, Garrus guided Lemilia back a few steps when the crowd before them began to stir agitatedly and debated getting out of the Council Chambers before tempers flared out of control. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the arrival of several C-Sec officers. The noise grew louder and louder, drowning out Sparatus's reply. A deafening thunder suddenly blanketed the cacophony. So shearing was the sound that everyone clapped their hands over their ears protectively, their anger forgotten momentarily. The echoes died away slowly.

"If I may speak," came Tevos's calm soothing voice. "Yes, Shepard did warn us of the Reapers. If you were there that day, then you also knew that she could not present verifiable evidence. Her knowledge came from a message that was given to her from a Prothean beacon. We could not commit any faith in such fragile assertions and could only support her quest to search for the truth."

"Support?" Garrus muttered under his breath, recalling how much grief and stonewalling they had given Shepard.

"No proof?" scorned the petitioner. "The proof came knocking on the Citadel with the Geth! That was the day when the Alliance had to step in to save us all when you couldn't!"

"There was no reason to think that there was any other adversaries than the Geth Heretics," returned Tevos smoothly. "From what model could we draw on then to say with surety that the Geth Heretics had a Reaper with them? Should we spread unjustified counsel on the community? Would you have accepted such information readily?"

The crowd murmured uncertainly at the accurate charges. Would they have believed?

"The TI menace touches and afflicts, it spares no one. If there is a way to end it quickly, we can only assure you, we will spare no efforts to see it done," the conviction in her voice rang through the vast chamber.

"This session is ended," said Sparatus firmly when the crowd remained quiescent though they were obviously still indecisive.

"No. It's not the end, Sparatus, you liar!" shouted the petitioner. "The Reaper that came with the Geth Heretics was created of an advance technology far beyond our own. Such a fact is more than enough to raise questions on its origins! How can you deny it?! How can you..."

"Come, we better get out of here," said Garrus, gesturing back to the garden. Curiosity satisfied, it was time to beat a retreat from a situation that was turning explosive. Confident he might be that he and Lemilia could handle any trouble since they were both military trained, he was not inclined to inflict injuries on innocent civilians whose passions might accelerate into a frenzy if the petitioner continued in his accusatory rant. From the roar behind him as they hurried to the garden, it sounded that was exactly what was going to happen. The Councilors would have made their exit by now, there was no way the crowd could reach them. That left the C-Sec officers he saw earlier and he didn't envy them the task they faced.

"Spirits!" he halted mid-stride and looked back in consternation when a gunshot rang out. The furor was silenced. Someone screamed. Then unexpectedly, everything went dark. Voices began to babble, their fear carried clearly in the air. "Stay still," he turned on his omni-tool, blinking in the flare of amber light. As he looked towards the Petitioner's Stage, he saw a sea of amber glows, weaving this way and that as their bearers sought to get out of the Citadel Tower. The shooting seemed to have been forgotten.

However, something was wrong, he felt it in his bones. But what? It took some time before he realised what it was. After years on the Citadel, he was all but inured to the deep bass-like acoustic generated by the reactor core of the space station. It was a subtle pressure he was used to but now, it was missing. That meant the reactor core had shut down. Why? How? Who had done it? Deliberate or accidental? Neither premise bode well.

"Garrus, should be we proceed to the stairs?" Lemilia sounded practical than frightened, looking to him to guide them out of the place since he was more familiar with it than her.

"We stay until those people are dealt with," he said. Stumbling about in the dark with frightened people was not healthy especially with the chaos that must be erupting all over the station. Accidents and injuries would pile up like torquats after sumaqs, he just hope no one died in the panicked rush to get to safety. Besides, he was not sure it would make any difference where they go. Depending on how long the space station could maintain rotational momentum, they could just find themselves floating helplessly.

_Shepard, old friend, I sure hope you are having a better time than I am._

* * *

**SSV Glasgow**

For a moment, she didn't know where she was except that she felt well rested. Stretching slightly, she luxuriated in the feeling of peace and well-being and became aware of the body flushed against her back, the arm draped across her stomach and legs entangled with her own. Seeping in were sensations of soreness, familiar scents and she flushed as memories came flooding in of the 'punishment' meted out by Liara. Such was the prolonged moments of ecstasy that she was unable to hold in her responses. The proof of that was making itself felt and she tried to generate moisture in a horribly dry sore throat. A testament of how much her control had slipped. Fervently, she hoped their next door neighbour had been conveniently away on duty.

_Would it matter if he was not? [amusement]_

_You know how it is. Current's slower than the Normandy but it still gets spread around._

She shivered as Liara trailed her lips trailed over her shoulder, running fingertips teasingly under her breasts before sitting up and scooting off the bed. Knowing what her bondmate was about, she sat up and leaned against the headboard, only to jerk upright when something jabbed into her side. Reaching down, she pulled up the datapad she had tossed aside hours earlier. Six hours earlier, the chronometer pronounced when she peered at it as she turned on the light over the nightstand. Near dawn on the Glasgow. Settling back against the headboard, she began to read the rest of the messages.

Pouring two glasses of water from the water dispenser, Liara brought them with her as she returned to the bed. Climbing over Shepard carefully, she settled down beside her, handing her one of the glasses. Sending her thanks through their link, Shepard took several sips. The water was balm on the desert parch that was her throat. Such was the cooling relief that she closed her eyes for a moment before opening them to resume her reading, unaware of Liara's pensive gaze.

"Miranda wants me to try talking to Santino," she snorted in annoyance at the suggestion. "I don't see how it's relevant. With all those yottabits of Cerberus data pulled from Omega, we don't need him."

"It is too early to arrive at that assumption," said Liara cautiously, "it will take days to sift through a volume that large."

"You'll find something or Langdon will, he has the bigger staff," said Shepard confidently, moving to the next message. "Hmmm...that's funny."

"What?"

"Karin asks after us and then says she'd like to have another Serrice Ice Brandy session at our earliest convenience."

"Perhaps she has something important to discuss with you," mentally, Liara made a note to get hold of Dr Chakwas before Shepard did. The email sounded off to her. Too, the sending of it was strange, off schedule, so to speak for Dr Chakwas's correspondence was usually during human festive seasons.

"Yeah, maybe along the lines of...your cybernetic implants are going offline in Z-minus how many days and...," she said jokingly.

"Shepard, that is not funny."

The biting tone was a surprise Belatedly, she realised that Liara was upset. It couldn't possibly be over the Craidan incident. Maybe it was the workload. Or maybe it was because she was pregnant. One or all combined, it didn't matter. The point was that Liara was really not happy, she could feel it seeping it through their link.

"Um, I'm sorry," she said hurriedly, "I shouldn't have said that. Maybe Chakwas really miss our company." That was highly unlikely and totally absurd but she simply threw out the first lame explanation that came to mind to settle the subject. "I'll just tell her she's welcome to drop in on us any time once we return to Thessia," she thumbed for the next message which she saw was from Admiral Langdon. "Uh oh..."

"What is it?" Liara muttered distractedly, half focused on working out the reason Chakwas would want to see Shepard.

"The teams he sent to that Terra Firma colony found it abandoned and guess what," she read the rest of the contents again to be sure. "They seemed to have departed in an orderly manner because not a single nut or bolt can be found. Sounds familiar?"

That caught Liara's attention. "If they had provided the labor pool and facilities to Cerberus, perhaps that was why none of the refugees was allowed into the colony."

"Maybe there's another reason why the refugees stayed as long as they did," Shepard said slowly as an idea struck her. "I think there were transports. A few shuttles maybe but they wanted to keep those refugees because they provided the perfect cover. If any Alliance ship drop in, they could be distracted with the plight of the refugees. All of which can be blamed on the inadequacy of Alliance and Council aid. The refugees supplied the pool of materials for Cerberus to work with, new projects whatever and a few hundred were taken off..."

"Bethia never said that," interrupted Liara.

"She may not know. Two thousand and more refugees? No one's going to know exactly what's going on if they were housed in different zones and cut off from the outside. Besides, Bethia and the rest are malnourished, they won't be thinking that straight. Their debriefings won't take place until a week later. I think they would remember a lot more by then."

"So, if they had been removing people secretly, that would explain why they decided to move the rest to Omega when the Council announced the census."

"They pulled up stakes because they knew sooner or later, their dirt would be unearthed."

Liara sighed. "It _is_ going to take days, weeks to find out where they went. If there is any clue in the Omega files."

"I'm more interested in what they've doing at the colony," muttered Shepard, reading the email again to make sure she missed nothing. "Langdon says the teams will continue to search for hidden caches and underground bunkers."

The last caught Liara's attention. "They might not have left at all."

"Uh huh," Shepard nodded. "But I've a feeling they've really packed for parts unknown."

"You could be right...," Liara swirled the remaining water in her glass as she stared at it.

"What do you mean?" Shepard frowned for it seemed her bondmate had a different interpretation. "You don't think they left to join up with Cerberus?"

"I am waiting for Feron's next report. He is still tracking down the remaining traders."

Dropping the subject, Shepard moved on to the next message, knowing that once she was absolutely certain her information was correct, Liara would share what she knew. The lengthy block of emails from her trainees was a pleasant surprise. There were too many so she picked out those whom she had more contact with to read first. Usually these were the ones who had been elected squad leaders. She smiled at the two familiar names attached to the block at the bottom.

"Training is going well," she murmured after a while. "With Nyrine unshackled and working all out with Sanar and the commandos, the trainees felt the impact. They sound a lot more confident. Of course the news that Amali was recovered without any casualties is a big booster to morale. They also want to know when I'm going to be back."

"What do you think?" said Liara, again distracted with the the matter of Dr Chakwas's desire to meet.

"It's tough," Shepard sighed. "Once Ilos is settled, I'd like to get back to Thessia but the old man would probably keep sending me off on some matter about Cerberus."

"And Cerberus is a matter we both prefer to see to an end ourselves," leaning across Shepard, Liara placed her empty glass on the nightstand.

"I know. It's...," Shepard exhaled gustily before saying cautiously, "going to take months and months. You realise you might not be mobile enough at the end."

"You are not leaving me behind on Thessia while you galivant off elsewhere," lips compressed thinly, Liara glared at her.

Wincing inwardly, for that was precisely what she thinking of, Shepard hastily denied it. "Did I say that? I'm only saying you'll have trouble moving about if we can't locate them in the next nine months but I guess we can return to Thessia when things slack off," she added quickly. "We've been moving from one trouble spot to another the minute we left Thessia, I'm sure the old man wouldn't mind our taking some time off," she scrolled to the next message, eager to leave the issue behind and grinned in delight. "Hey, a message from Garrus."

Aware that her bondmate wanted to drop the subject, Liara did not pursue the matter. However, should she really try to persuade her to stay on Thessia while she went off to deal with Cerberus, she would not hold back her punches. Drawing up her legs, Liara rested her chin on her knees. "Goddess, it has been so long since we last saw him," she said wistfully, recalling the private gathering they had with all those who had survived. It had been a difficult and emotional get together but bitter sweet the victory was, they were glad to have made it and had made a point of contacting one another at every anniversary.

"Well, he just threw out the usual stuff, drinks at the bar, etc," Shepard chuckled at the next line, "and a challenge to another sniping competition. Is he getting maudlin in his old age or what? Says he really misses the good old times. That's the third time he mentions it."

"Maybe he is looking for someone to talk to. Someone he does not have to hold back on," suggested Liara.

Shepard stared at her in astonishment. "Do you know something?"

"He is doing fine, perhaps, too well for some who might not look kindly on his swift rise through the ranks."

"Oh that. Yeah, he is going to hate that," Shepard shook her head, glad that things were simpler at her end. For that, she supposed she had the old man to thank. "I'll see if we can't meet some time soon, I miss that ugly face of his," she chuckled as she turned back to the datapad and saw there was one last email. She froze when she saw the sender's name.

Well aware of her shock; she had been waiting for it, Liara said carefully and hopefully, "Are you going to read that?"

"After all this time...what do you suppose she has to say?" Shepard stared at the name with longing and loathing.

"Perhaps something important," Liara peered at Shepard's frozen and closed face. Shunting away the temptation to taste her feelings through their link, she said gently, "Shepard, she is reaching out to you, will you not read what she has to say? Shepard?" she watched with dismay as her bondmate closed off the datapad and placed it and her glass on the nightstand. "Would you rather I read it to you?" her heart sank as her lover shuffled down. "Shepard?"

"Leave it, Liara. I'll get round to it eventually," she pillowed her head with her hands. _Perhaps never._

Biting back a sigh, Liara fell silent. The stubborn glint in those blue eyes was all too familiar and she was not keen to spark any unhappiness between them. Not with the new found bond between them in the initial stages. Restraining another sigh, she leaned over and turned off the light before nestling against Shepard, feeling her arms enfolding her and wondered if Hannah Shepard had ever held her daughter unreservedly.

"Just give me some time, love," Shepard said soothingly, not wishing Liara to brood over the strained ties between her and her mother. "A few more hours to go, try to sleep. I don't think you've been getting much of that."

"I've been thinking of getting something else," laughed Liara softly, running her hand over her lover's chest.

"Sleep, you wanton hussy," scolded Shepard, taking the wandering hand in her own, hearing the laughter in her ear before warm lips closed over her own.

* * *

**Unknown Location**

"I'm sorry, sir," the Cerberus commander said nasally, not sounding sorry at all. "Our last communications with Taskforce 2.1 confirmed Allied presence in the Sahrabarik System. With the destruction of the CSV Ames, we can only send probes for force recon."

His hand clenched before relaxing. "Cancel the recon. I want defenses on all the bases boosted and guards doubled."

"Sir," the commander saluted as he closed off the comlink before slamming a fist on the desk. It shouldn't have been that way. Weren't the Alliance strapped for resources? How did they even have the ships to send to the system? Turning to his console, he called up the last few data dumps that were transmitted to Omega before the entire project was scrubbed. Keying in as many queries as he could, he then called up a holomap of current bases, ships and personnel.

Frowning, he mentally shifted the groups about, trying to gauge certain reactions and plausible responses from the opposition. Working with outdated and flawed data was a huge disadvantage but he was banking on his enemies holding the same short end of the stick as he was. They were both swinging blind and they were lucky enough to have bloodied his nose first. They wouldn't be so fortunate in their next encounter, he just have to make sure of that.

He shook his head as his vision clouded momentarily and he hastily reached out for the med injector that stood beside the coffee cup. Too late, his fingers reached and missed as pain lanced through his head. Hunched over, he panted and suffered the pain in silence. When it abated slightly, he grabbed the med injector and jammed it against his neck, gasping in relief when the pain vanished swiftly. Tossing the injector back on the table with shaking fingers, he leaned back against the chair, trying to calm his racing heart before getting to his feet and walked to the bathroom. Stripping off the wet shirt, he wiped himself dry with a towel before throwing it into the clothes bin, staring at the wall mirror.

Did he look more haggard? Turning his face side to side, he tried to determine if his cheekbones were more prominent but they seemed to remain the same. Turning away, he got a clean shirt from the clothes rack beside the door and returned to his desk, noting that the search program he had initiated on the data dumps had turned up a blank. Siting back down in his chair, he considered for a moment before keying in a code on the comm channel. The call was picked up swiftly.

"Lance, initiate Taskforce Elysian," he said to the man who answered.

The man he addressed as Lance smiled in delight before his happiness dimmed slightly. "You are certain," he said. "We can wait if you need to find another way."

"No," he shook his head. "Begin your preparations now," he closed the comlink before Lance could ask any more questions and turned back to the holomap. Where was he? Ah yes. Concentrating intensely, he returned to his previous task. It was like a game of chess and poker really. Move a pawn right and an important enemy asset could be removed. Or move an asset as a gamble and hoped it paid off. Of those two, he was willing to bet he had the most pawns and assets to play around with, courtesy of the Reapers. A by-product surely but extremely valuable. If he played his cards right, made all the right moves, he would walk off into the sunset with his beloved. The galaxy at his feet.

Such a rosy outcome. How could he not do his best? He was the best tactician among all. The mentor had said so. Even hinted that he was the heir he was looking for. And so, he could not fail. He winced as tiny glimmers of pain seeped in. But something else could stop him. Pausing in his task, he considered before hitting the comm key to medlab. The call was answered as swiftly as the first. This time, by a woman in a labcoat. Her blue eyes glowed at him but he did not look away.

"Dr, I'm going to take you up on that suggestion. I'm coming in."


	49. Chapter 49

**Ilos**

"Several weeks away and this place remade itself," muttered Shepard in amazement as she peered out of the window. "Nothing like the prospect of a treasure trove to make them jump to."

Watching the onboard visual feed as the shuttle descended rapidly below cloud level, Liara agreed with that assessment. Even at that altitude, the foundations of the new base complex lay clearly exposed like an open wound. Piles and shafts jutted forth like jagged teeth through the ground covered with heavy construction equipment and materials. Faint lines of tracks and trenches, getting larger by the minute, intersected it like a grid. With the groundwork near level with the surrounding terrain, that meant most of the framework for the undergound bunkers had been completed. The speed in which it was accomplished was amazing but what really took her breath away was the scale of the substructure. Not having seen the designs for the complex, she could only surmise the size of the structure once it was completed.

The view of the construction site gradually merged with the horizon as the shuttle reached one of the landing pads next to the small spaceport. The hatch opened to reveal a trio of suited up Alliance marines waiting outside. As she followed Shepard out, Liara found herself standing in the shadow cast by the enormous prefab that loomed over the spaceport, shutting out the blazing rays of the sun. The ground seemed to shimmer for a while before her helmet sensors tone down the glare. The only signs of activity as she looked around was the sand and grit skittering over the ground in the wind.

_Liara? [a touch on her arm]_

It brought her out of her distraction and she hastily stepped after Shepard as the marines formed the spearhead of their path to the buggy parked at the bottom of the sloping ramp of the landing pad. Once seated securely at the back, one of the marines started up the buggy and they went down a slightly bumpy road to the spaceport terminal. Behind them, the shuttle took off in a mini-cloud of dust, returning to the Glasgow. It took no time at all for the buggy to reach the entrance of the defense wall that surrounded both spaceport terminal and the mainbase, the turrets swivelled as they tracked the vehicle and then returned to watchful sentinel. They got off when the buggy came to a stop outside the entrance to the spaceport terminal, beams from scanners flicking off them as they passed through. Only one person, dressed in familiar armor, stood waiting for them in the large empty lobby.

"Javik!" Shepard greeted the familiar figure, consciously restraining herself from offering her hand.

"Shepard, Liara," Javik nodded to them. "Circumstances dictate that we should meet again."

"I'm sorry, did we drag you away from hotbeds of caviar?" Shepard returned laconically, hearing Liara's mental giggle and mild reproval.

Plainly not understanding the joke, Javik cocked his head. "Hotbeds of caviar?" he repeated. "I have never heard of such an item on Kahje, though there are thousands of mollusk species. Are you referring to one of those?"

"Not really," Shepard shook her head solemnly, "but you sound...busy." Unhappy really, though there was no such implications in his tone. His words conveyed otherwise.

"Ah..," he said thoughtfully as he fell into step beside them as the marines moved towards the exit at the far end. "I have just completed the first several chapters on the book project we have agreed on."

"Book, what book? What project?" Shepard said in confusion, not recalling she had ever agreed to do any book with him.

"You have?" Liara knew exactly what Javik was referring. "Did you bring them with you?" she wondered that he never mentioned it in their correspondence.

"Oh, that project," Shepard recalled Liara telling her of Javik's interest to co-author a book with her. Stories from the last member of a race who were more dust than bones should be a great draw. Who knew it wouldn't be one of the top sellers on the galactic literary market?

"I was planning a presentation in a more conducive setting, I did not think we would meet here," he said before leaning in closer to Shepard, "a mistake perhaps?" this in an almost inaudible voice.

Shepard almost halted in her tracks. She remembered a time when he would be most brusque and tactless in his statements, arrogance oozing in profusion of his disdain to the people and ideologies of the world he had woken up to. He had called himself the Avatar of Vengence. Having tasted the depths of his pain and hatred in that moment when they inadvertently shared memories on Eden Prime, she understood what he was going through. With so much bottled within, he had to let it out and she haboured little illusions that he would even try to survive the battlefield on Earth. But he had and she was glad. Glad too that living on Kahje had apparently improved him. Perhaps peace, a new role, new goals and wholehearted support from the Hanar, even if it bordered on fenetic religious fervor, provided some balm for his wounds.

"Not a mistake," she shook her head, "given the current situation with the TI, nothing should be left unturned."

"I do not question your quest, only the judgment you made at the end," he threw her a meaningful look as they passed through the exit into the passageway that connected the spaceport to the main base.

He knew or guessed. She supposed everyone involved in the study of the Prothean Archives would have arrived at the same conclusion; Shepard did it. But so far, no one was coming right out with the pointing finger which could mean a few things; either they agree with her decision or they simply didn't want to engage in a slugging match with her. Leaving those few boneheads with the backbone and gumption to try to ferret out the locked ciphers. Like one dumb Salarian mucking up everyone's lives right now.

"How much do you know?" she said as they passed through the checkpoint of the main base, absently returning the salutes the marine sentries sent at her.

"They said only what was needed but then I am a Prothean," he stated simply, glancing around them before looking at her. His meaning was clear; not exactly the best place to talk and she agreed.

Having clarified events and establishing mission perimeters with Admiral Roux onboard the Glasgow, they headed straight to the checkpoint leading to the main entrance of the bunker instead of CIC. If the force field was indeed similar to the one that Liara had triggered on Therum, speed was of import to release the people trapped within. Breezing through the checkpoint, they picked up a squad of Alliance marines that had been waiting for them and climbed into the medium sized buggies parked beside the end of the ramp pleading down to the trench and set off at the best maximum speed. Wincing at the wind buffeting his eyes, Javik tapped a little button along his armor collar and sheets emerged to form a helmet which somewhat resembled the blank visage of a Collector.

Tempted as she was to reach over and tap it, Shepard settled for examining it visually and recalled no matter how she had tried to persuade him; the first time she saw how the helmet was formed, Javik had steadfastly refused to allow thorough examination of his armor. If they wanted the armor specifications and technology, they would have to try harder to discover them by themselves, he had remarked. If that was an oblique barb alluding to dependency on Prothean technical knowledge, she concede he had a point; every current advanced race had after all swum up the ladder using Prothean accomplishments which in turn had been based on an older civilization and the cycle had kept repeating. A vulnerable chink those damnable Reapers had banked on.

_I have to wonder if the Geth would be able to figure it out._

_You are not going to make such an attempt are you? [disapproval]_

_And have a planetful of jellyfish after me? I'm not that fond of the dish. [chuckle]_

_Look._

Liara nudged her bondmate with an elbow as the buggies passed by a large contingent of people. Shepard saw that they were marines, medics and SBAs, some of which were pulled from the flotilla no doubt. Crates and pallets were stacked high; medical and food supplies. Days without food and water would have weakened those trapped in the force field and they would have to be evacuated quickly. She hoped none had died. However, if her attempt to communicate with Vigil failed, that might just happened. In which case, part of the blame could be laid at her feet. If she hadn't locked the archives, that stupid Salarian wouldn't have tried to break into it.

_Shepard, you made the right decision. [patient] Kedar never knew what we did but even if he had guessed it, he knew exactly what he was doing._

_Did he? [doubt] Everyone's going nuts trying to get rid of the TI. You saw how he was on the expedition. Who's to say he didn't turn the corner trying to be the one to beat them down._

The buggies came to a stop outside a familiar doorway where Shepard halted the squad of assigned marines right there. When she ordered them to wait instead of following her to the terminal, firmly overriding the sergeant's protest that his orders had been to accompany the captain and provide backup. Having an audience to witness and record the conversation with Vigil was not in her books, so she added another line of argument; they wouldn't be of much help if the V.I. decided to throw up a force field in response. That, the sergeant could not counter and was more than willing enough to move the squad several meters away from the doorway.

"I hope you are wrong," said Liara with some trepidation as they rode the elevator down, "I do not want to taste that kind of field again," she recalled the feelings of hunger, the itches that she could not scratch, the little twinges of her limbs from prolonged suspension and the embarassing need to relieve herself but she had hung on, refusing to suffer such indignity before her enemies. Shepard's arrival had nearly sent her into hysterics that she nearly did soil herself.

"Don't worry, I'm expecting something worse," Shepard turned to Javik. "Like a big B-O-O-M."

"Indeed. There is such a possibility," he said placidly, glazing through the glass panels of the elevator and did not notice the long look Shepard gave him, not that he would be able to see it since they were all suited up.

"Do the two of you ever look above the horizon?" quipped Liara as the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened.

"Not when it is perpetually filled with floating windbags," said Javik, stepping through the doors, leaving the two gapping in astonishment at his back.

_Did he just made a joke? [nervous disbelief] Or was that an observation?_

_Those windbags must have done a blowing number on the weather vane._

After locking down the elevator, they stepped out into the familiar passage. Everything seemed unchanged until Shepard stepped to the railings that bordered the edge and peered over. The silvery glow of the force field was just a few meters below. It was so large, it obscured the sight of the abyss. The barrier would remain as long as the core sustained enough energy to maintain it. Once it ran out, the barrier would collapse. Unfortunately, they couldn't wait for it to run dry. Turning away, she approached the terminal.

_Ready?_ She looked at Liara who nodded, standing beside Javik.

"Vigil!" she called. The terminal glowed and slowly, the V.I. materialised. It looked at her and a stream of syllabics flowed out. "Damn, they weren't kidding," she muttered for she couldn't understand what it said. The words didn't even sound remotely Prothean to her. "Any suggestions?" she regarded the V.I. sourly. "Javik, why don't you use those magic fingers of yours and figure out what went wrong?"

"I can read biological imprints, not machines and I do not have magic fingers," he added.

"You said it sounded like ancient formulaic tongue," Liara ran the recordings through a program in her omni-tool," on what premise did you base that conclusion on?"

"Based on a few words that seem similar to an old form of dialect my people once used," Javik shifted his feet, "before the first diaspora. History was...a much research subject in my early years. I came across a few rare preserved forms in the libraries."

"The archives here were built above and linked to an ancient site," Liara paused significantly.

"Inusannon?" Shepard turned to stare at Vigil. "You're saying its program is somehow mixed up with some ancient data bit?"

"What does your other memory say?"

Shepard froze. "You knew about the Cipher?" she stared at Javik in disbelief.

"I sensed...," he hesitated, "..the Other. When we touched."

"Why didn't you say something back then?"

"To what purpose? The Other had no relevence in the war," he said defensively.

"No relevence? How could you be so sure? There could have been some information about the damn Catalyst. Revealed what it was. It..it could have saved us a lot of time and lives!" she spluttered angrily, her finger jabbing accusingly at him. "Damn it, Javik!"

"Shepard..," Liara touched her arm gently to calm her down, anxious and surprised at the sudden flare of temper.

"On the planet where I was born, there were no Avatars of Memory," Javik said softly, "My world was not that vital for a Zgagis to govern. The only knowledge I have about them were from those who had spoken about them; family, friends, superiors. They spoke of them during moments of darkness, recalling how in the past, their wisdom had saved many and how they could have saved us from the ancient machines."

"What's your point?" Shepard tried to keep down her impatience. "If they had the wisdom, why did you keep quiet?!"

"I did not believe," bowing his head, Javik sighed. "I did not believe in their wisdom. When I woke to this world, I did not believe we would win. I have anger, I have hatred, I wanted vengence but I have no faith. Unlike you," reaching up, he tapped the key that retracted his helmet. The air was dank and heavy, very much like the smell of decay on his homeworld. Eyes dimmed with memory, he continued. "Unlike you, I saw only the night. I saw where my people had gone wrong. Why I failed. I was jealous, envious of your successes. That the lowly species might accomplish what my people could not. Despite everything I put in the way, you never gave up. In the end, I began to believe."

"Then help me now," Shepard reached out a hand to him, "help me understand the Cipher that perhaps could help me free these people."

He stepped back, refusing to touch her, shaking his head. "I cannot, Shepard. My training was military. I do not know the esoteric disciplines of the Avatars of Memory."

"It doesn't have to be anything profound, just read something about it," Shepard insisted.

"I will not," Javik's eyes glinted stubbornly. "Though I never had close contact with any Zgagis, I read up about them. Do you know what happened to those who failed the memory transference? They devolved into madness and were destroyed. I will not meddle blindly in something I have no skill and no training in. I can not, Shepard. I will not. Not to my friend."

That silenced her next words. Anger deflated, she stared at the ground, half-wondering what trick she could pull to solve the problem. Touching her gently on the shoulder, Liara caught the strands of whispering anxiety before a barrier went up. She did not try to probe but she knew then her bondmate was hiding something from her.

"You said you never knew how the Cipher helped you, only that you asked questions within your mind? Have you tried it?" she suggested.

"No," exhaling noisily, Shepard faced Vigil again, hating what she had to do. Closing her eyes for a moment, she spoke again. "Vigil." The V.I responded. This time, the stream of syllabics sounded different.

_Help me. What is Vigil saying?_

A series of sparks seemed to go off in her head. Reeling, she would have fallen had Liara not grabbed her arm to steady her. Tempted though she was to follow her bondmate's thoughts, she put up the strongest barrier she could form in her own mind and held on. Half-aware, Shepard tried to make sense of the tumbling images and voices; they were going too fast for her to grasp anything.

_...translated forms...[rustling]... proto-Inus [the obelisk glowed]...twenty-three thousand years...try speaking [finger on keys]...three tiers, section three dash..._

"Vigil," called Liara as Shepard swayed, not knowing if her bondmate was in pain but wishing to get everything over with. Javik reached out to help and quickly pulled back. "Vigil, respond," he added his voice instead. The V.I. spoke again and Shepard lifted her head as she listened.

"...warning...intrusion alert...system purge imminent..."

"Ua'rzis...jsgar'z..."

Eyes wide, Liara stared when Shepard pulled away, stumbling a little before straightening, stepping towards Vigil. The words issuing from her mouth were the same syllabics. "Shepard?" she said uncertainly and would have tried to touch her again except that Javik stopped her with a gesture.

"Wait. She should not be disturbed," he listened keenly as Vigil responded. A rolling string of syllabics that sounded like a question from Shepard and a reply from the V.I. Back and forth they went, with hesitant pauses from Shepard, as if she were searching for words.

"It does not sound like she has the entire syntax," Liara wished the conversion program she had running on her omni-tool would work faster; she felt uneasy standing by just listening to Shepard who sounded nothing like herself.

"I wonder how far back this memory is," Javik muttered and stiffened with surprise when Vigil's image flickered then abruptly vanished to be replaced by a tall figure.

Eyes wide, Liara stared at this strange manifestation dressed in flowing robes. It reminded her of something; a humanoid head that looked bald, deep-set eyes, tentacles or was it a long beard flowing from its lower face. It lifted a rather long hand with long fingers in a swirling gesture as it spoke in a rolling rich tone.

"This cannot be a Inusannon, can it?" she said faintly as Shepard answered.

"That is not good," Javik reached up to enable his helmet and shifted slowly over to Shepard when the image flicked one of its hand in what seemed like a dismissing wave, its tone changing to inflections of displeasure. "Be prepared," he said over his shoulder, poised in readiness to snatch the human away at the first sign of trouble.

Swallowing nervously, Liara watched with rising tension when the exchange became intense and awkward, considering the moments Shepard took to search for appropriate responses but she sounded determined despite the handicap. She was tempted to think it was nothing more than a question, answer bout but it was increasingly apparent it wasn't so. Not when the new V.I. displayed signs of sentience. Was it an advanced V.I? If it wasn't, then it must be an A.I. An increasingly angry-looking A.I. If it had been a living being, she would have used her biotics and threw up a shield. But since it was not, she could only wait. Was it linked to the Prothean Archives or the other way round? Either way, she was certain it had control over the central core. Her heart plummeted at that thought; at the worst, all of them would not leave Ilos.

But how sentient was it? It spoke angrily, it looked angry. She was convinced it was carrying out a discussion with Shepard. A.I.? Perhaps another form? She ducked when it suddenly shouted, the echoes thundering in the passage. Unfazed, Shepard continued to speak. Frantically, Liara looked at her omni-tool and her anxiety increased another tenfold; the translation program had not even managed to distil a word yet. There was no way she could provide any help. She looked at Javik's tense back, knowing he would immediately shield Shepard at the first sign of any attack and was glad he was there.

Abruptly, the exchange ceased and the two simply looked at each other. The image bowed its head, clasping its intricately linked hands together at its torso, bringing them up to its chest, its forehead before spreading them wide as it vanished even as Shepard's legs began to buckle. Hands glowing with biotics, Javik leapt forward and caught her before she hit the ground even as Liara rushed over. The lights on the terminal flickered and Vigil reappeared.

"Systems online."

Over the comlink, a cacophony of voices burst out.

"Captain Shepard, can you hear me?! Come in! Dr T'Soni!"

"...can't get to...*cough*"

"Can anyone hear me?"

"...dying down here, can anyone hear me?"

"...report, need help..."

"Shepard, Shepard!" ignoring the beat of the persistent voice calling for them, Liara held her bondmate's helmet, trying to see into the visor even as she dropped her own mental barrier but nothing came through their link. "Shepard!" she looked down in horror when one of the small monitoring bodysuit bio tabs on the collar flashed red. "_Shepard_!"

* * *

"Confirm that!" barked Roux, eyes fixed to the holo display.

Checking the readings again, Commander Donev said firmly. "Yes, sir. It is confirmed, the force field is down. The slight fluctuation at the core is gone too," he resisted the desire to wipe his sweating brow. Not with so many Turians standing around. Tension abated in the CIC at that affirmation.

"Med evac teams, you are go," Ruox couldn't hide his relief as he gave the order, hearing the soothing assurances of the other techs at their work stations responding to the flood of distress calls. That there were so many cries for help was a good sign.

Tarpeius nodded to the small squad he had assembled and they saluted before trotting off quickly. Their mission was simple; apprehend one Dr Olor, before he could set off more mischief.

"Get me Shepard..," Ruox started to say to Donev when one of the techs linked in. "Sir, Dr T'Soni requests emergency med evac."

"Patch me through," he said quickly, wondering what had happened; neither Shepard nor T'Soni had responded to numerous attempts to contact them in the last forty-five minutes. There had been fears that they were similarly caught in a barrier and the squad that was supposed to accompany them reported that they were unable to access the elevator. Leaving them all to speculate and debate whether they should try more drastic means.

"Admiral Ruox," came a breathless voice which he recognized as T'Soni's. Faintly, in the background, he could hear someone counting over the roar of engines. "Captain Shepard requires emergency evac to the Glasgow."

Ruox nodded to Donev who strode to the nearest station, speaking rapidly to the tech. "What happened down there? We lost all feeds once you went down in the elevator."

"I don't know, sir," her voice caught, "did the force field come down?"

"Yes, evacuation teams are on their way," he nodded over his shoulder when Donev whispered softly behind him. "The shuttle and a medical crew are waiting at the landing pad," he didn't ask what was ailing Shepard, he could only hope she would pull through.

"Thank you, sir," Liara turned to the squad medic, the buggy they were in rocketing madly up the trench. Across from her, Javik held on grimly to his seat.

"Bio signs are still weak and unstable," the medic muttered, "you flooring it, Checnks?" this to the driver.

"Pedal to the metal, damn it," came the answer.

Liara touched her bondmate again. Nothing. Panic threatened to well up but she shoved it down, chosing to focus on the problem. There should have been something. She had been trying and trying, from since she and Javik dragged Shepard into the elevator and rode it all the way up, then into the buggy when the squad saw what had happened. It was as if Shepard was not there.

_Shepard, beloved. Where are you?_

* * *

**Local Cluster, Earth, Citadel**

The link was gone. The beam that had connected the Citadel to the Earth ever since the Reapers brought the space station to Sol was inexplicably cut off. Seated at the tail end of the wide table, Garrus examined the displayed schematics glimmering in the midst of the silent group. It was turned at every angle but with no more details, there was simply nothing else to discern. A throat cleared softly. A Salarian dressed in a station uniform that identified him as the head of station maintenance stood up.

"As you can see from station records, the beam was shut down at 1535. Due to causes that can not be determined at this time, the reactor core of the station was also affected, leading to power loss affecting the entire station that lasted thirty minutes. In the interim, all V.I. controlled services were disrupted, resulting in station-wide transit collisions, both on and off station."

"How was the reactor core restored, Melik?" asked Sparatus, hardly looking at his datapad.

"I'm afraid none of my crews were responsible," Melik blinked rapidly as he looked around the table. "We were trying to identify the cause when it restarted."

"Are there any other strange disruptions since?"

"No," Melik sat down when Sparatus nodded. "How many casualties are we looking at?" he looked at Executor Kralinx who sighed.

"Thousands, from panicked runs, fighting, attempts to get out of stuck elevators, traffic accidents, you name it, it's there. Even some fools who managed to space out the X3MS," he pointed a finger at the ward arms that filled the large window behind him, "we definitely lost a few out there despite our best efforts to track them down."

"What is the situation now?'

"People are frightened. Most are keeping to their homes, a number have booked passage back to their homeworlds or to the colonies."

"Thoughts?" Sparatus glanced at the other councilors.

"Despite the red flag raised by the Turian politco for his illegal petition, I think this is too complex for him even to arrange," Flewinne began cautiously, eyeing Sparatus who only stared impassively at her. "The TI and Cerberus agents are next to impossible."

"Who do you have in mind?" asked Tevos curiously.

Shifting in her chair, Flewinne leaned forward. "Keepers."

Such a suggestion would have been scoffed at and ridiculed more than four years ago. However, the Reaper War had changed everything and those who knew about the Keepers, couldn't help but regard the seemingly benign creatures with suspicion. Hence, nobody laughed and thoughtful frowns creased everyone's brows.

"It is hard to say," Melik rubbed his fingers nervously. "I have been keeping close tabs on them and so far, I've not seen them deviating from their customary routines. Their maintenance and repairs are sound. It is possible that they might have unintentionally clogged some systems."

"With an indenture as long as theirs? I find that hard to believe," Sparatus sat back, crossing his arms.

"Perhaps there is a side effect lingering from the time when the Reapers brought the Citadel into the Sol system," suggested Tevos. "After all, we have no idea how they managed the feat."

"Strictly on the engineering aspect, I can only offer the assurance that my crews will try their best to correct any possible faults but it would take months, years, to trace them," Melik opened his hands helplessly. "The Citadel is just too enormous."

Garrus nodded in agreement. Maintaining operational status of a infinitely active space station required an equally large effective taskforce to ensure that it did. The Keepers were that taskforce but now, their reliability was suspect. He had no idea just how many personnel there were currently in maintenance but he doubted there was enough to take over a job that had been seen to by a silent legion that had carried out their duties efficiently and effortlessly for hundreds and thousands of years. Not only that, the exact specifics of the Citadel would remain as enigmatic as the Keepers. He did not believe they had found out everything about it.

Irregardless, he did not think they would be able to find out the reason behind the shut down of the reactor core but definitely, the disappearance of the beam had something to do with it. Perhaps it was the Keepers after all. Perhaps they found the continued function of the beam was causing an inimical effect on the station and chose to turn it off. Perhaps they didn't like the idea of the humans experimenting with the beam. Perhaps one of their masters was still alive and told them to do so. Perhaps they turned it off because they wanted to shift the station elsewhere.

_Spirits, I should try a hand at writing a mystery novel._

"General Vakarian."

With a start, he realised Sparatus was speaking to him. Glancing around, he saw that the room was empty. The conference was over. What had they decided?

"Councilor?" he stood up as Sparatus approached to hand him a datapod.

"Primach Victus has assembled a squad and a frigate. They are waiting for you at docking bay 29D."

"Why...," he began before realization dawned. Victus had only told him and Lemelia to take a break at the Citadel. A surprising suggestion at best when they were in the midst of pushing back the TI on Palaven. Not the best of times to go on holiday, not when there was so much to do but Victus had been insistent. Now he knew why. "Where am I going?"

"The Alliance intercepted a Cerberus taskforce in the Sahrabarik System and disabled a Turian dreadnought. They requested that we sent our own investigative forces to board the disabled vessel." Sparatus nodded at the datapod. "Those are scans taken before and after the battle. Gather all available data onboard that ship and report back to Victus."

"Cerberus?" Garrus was incredulous. How had they gotten their hands on a Turian dreadnought?

"Given your past experience with Captain Shepard running down the renegade human faction, you are the best choice for this mission," Sparatus turned away before turning back to add, "Do keep this under wraps. We do not need another hysterical display at the Council Chambers."

Garrus watched him strolled out of the room and looked down at the datapod. _Cerberus._

* * *

**Author note - To clarify an observation raised by a reader. There is no link between the Inusannon and the Adjutants. That is not my intention. My description of the Inusannon in this chapter comes from what I remembered in Mass Effect 1, the statues on Ilos. It is never indictated that they represent Inusannon but I chose to make it so. On Adjutants, I've only seen the comic depictions, I didn't buy the Omega DLC so I have no idea what they looked like in the game but as far as I'm concerned, they have nothing to do with the Inusannon. Hope that clears it up. :) Thank you for reading. Cheers!  
**


	50. Chapter 50

**Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System, Urdak**

The taste was austere and a little dry. Better than some of the aggressive vintage that had been offered to her and definitely not up to the lively flavour that she preferred for young wine. Lifting the glass up to the light, she studied the appearance of the pale yellow liquid for a moment, took another sip before putting the glass on the table and strolled slowly over to the large window that covered one section of the wall. Drawn as always, to the twinkling of the stars across the black expanse. Such mysteries she had made about them when all was bright and new. Lying on the grass, asking and wondering with a mother who had shared that same fascination. Then, someone else took her mother's place and her imagination had grown wilder, never realizing the reality that was to come.

A soft blip dispelled the dreamy contemplation and she hit a key on her omni-tool enabling a viewscreen on the window. "An incoming call from the Alliance, Aria," said the Turian mercenary, with cautious diffidence. "It's..."

"Put him through," she strolled back to the table and picked up the glass of wine. Behind her, the screen flickered.

"Ms T'Loak."

The wine slide slowly down her throat and she waited for it to be gone before turning around. "Admiral Hackett."

"There seems to be a problem. Exactly what kind of gig did you promise them?" He didn't bother to specify, Aria was no fool; they both knew what he was talking about.

"Whatever would be given to the survivors."

"We both know that is impossible."

Shrugging nonchalantly, she met the human's pale cool gaze. "No. It is impossible because they don't care about the lines of precepts and influence we hold to. Yours, mine or anyone else's. So on and so forth," she swirled the wine in the glass slowly.

"Your point?"

"How would you define fear?" she eyed him as she took another sip from her glass. He gazed back impassively though his eyes narrowed slightly.

"What are you proposing?"

"Since they will not accept separation, why bother? It serves no purpose."

"They are beyond the boundary of dominion," he regarded her gravely with a slight twitch to an eyebrow, "it serves no purpose either to keep them."

Hardly missing a beat despite the slight widening of her eyes at that implication, she said, "Not if we draw that boundary to their desires."

"And what is the tool?"

Taking another sip from her glass without taking her eyes off him, she said slowly, "Possible tracks to their prey," she paused for a moment and then added, "And yours."

Off screen, Langdon wondered how the old man was going to respond. The pirate queen had all but admitted she was withholding information. Clearly, she was planning to trot it out in exchange for more favors from them. Didn't she get a great bargain off them in her last deal? How long was she going to keep at it? He fumed inwardly and wondered how useful her cards would be when they had the Omega files. He frowned as he ran over what she had said. Tracks? Did she know the location of the Cerberus bases? How?

"You had another use for it," said Hackett, aware of the boiling cauldron behind him.

"Does it matter?" she drained the glass and set it aside. "Any tool is indefinite. When time and circumstances are right, it matter not the original intentions. Only the results."

"If they accept the proposal?"

"If they live, advocate equal obligations and accountability. They deserve that much."

For a moment he said nothing as he considered before nodding. "Very well, you will have an answer in an hour, if they are obliging. ..Hackett..."

"One moment," she interrupted before he could end the call. "The survivors?"

"The survivors were transferred to another medical transport prior to the hostile takeover. What they have with them now are a few volunteer marines and medical personnel."

"You would not have tried to keep them."

"You already know the answer to that one," he nodded to her. "Hackett out."

Pouring herself another glass from the wine bottle, she sat down in an armchair by the window. It was no surprise really, that Miona and her cohorts chose to pick a more drastic measure to have their demands met. Their rebellion and hostility was inevitable but she hadn't thought it would be this fast or that Hackett to have that obdurate backbone to write them and the hostages off. Or that one of her bargaining chips would be brought into play so soon. It would lose her an edge but something might be gained in the long run. Or perhaps there would be nothing at the end. However, she'd prefer to think the odds were in her favour after so many centuries of playing the game.

* * *

**SSV Glasgow**

Liara tried not to pace but standing still was next to impossible. Sifting through the Omega files would provide some form of distraction but she had not the heart for it. Talking would be ideal but other than Javik, who was ensconced in that familiar distant facade, there was no one else in the medical bay. Given a choice, she would prefer to stay with Shepard at the other end of the room but the surgeon commander had politely requested she waited elsewhere. Casting another glance at the doctor who was bending over her unconscious bondmate, she could take some comfort in his measured calm examination and quiet discussion with the surgeon lieutenant. Surely they would behave contrary if Shepard's condition was dire.

She turned when someone addressed her softly. "Dorrin," she was glad to see a familiar face.

"I heard," he looked worriedly at the sole occupied bed where the doctors and SBA were gathered around. "What happened down there?"

"I am not sure," she flicked a glance at Javik who did not turn his head from his scutiny of the activity. "She collapsed after talking to the V.I."

"And?" Dorrin gazed enquiringly at her. "What did Vigil do to have such an effect? Was there some kind of energy leakage from the forcefield? I understand only a few meters separates the terminal from the edge of the forcefield."

Hands twisting against each other, Liara shook her head. "I really do not know," she said helplessly, resisting the temptation to say more. One thing would lead to another and unless Shepard indicate otherwise, the less spoken of the incident, the better. "Dorrin, you have not met Javik, I believe," she gestured to Javik who turned to nod politely.

"You're the last Prothean," Dorrin couldn't keep the awe from his voice and offered his hand. "I'd never thought I'll run into you."

"Indeed. I am the last," Javik looked down at the proffered hand. "I believe that is what humans called a handshake. We do not have such customs."

"Apologies," Dorrin said easily, dropping his hand. "It's an ingrained habit. How did your people greet each other?"

"The ones who would greet were of low standing. Of forms, there were many, depending on the rank and the caste."

"Oh...," Dorrin blinked as he digested that bit of information.

Recognising the devilish light in his eyes, Liara said hurriedly, "What is the situation on Ilos?"

"No casualties," he smiled at her sigh of relief. "Most are understandably not in the best of health. Rest and food will see them back on their feet in the next few days."

"What about Dr Olor?"

Tucking his hands into the pockets of his uniform trousers, Dorrin shrugged. "The turians are quick to toss him in the brig. Well," he rubbed his nose with a knuckle, "actually there're no secured brigs down there so they're going to send him to the Citadel for the hearing on the first fast ship. The rest of the salarian contingent are being grilled to see if they're just as black."

"Grilling removes the freshness and flavour of salarian liver," said Javik solemnly.

"What?" Dorrin stared at Javi in bemusement before his eyes gleamed but someone cut in before he could launch into the conversation he had in mind.

"Dr T'Soni, Captain," the surgeon commander nodded to them. "I'm Doctor Hyanes," he frowned when Javik stepped up.

"He is a close friend," Liara said quickly before the doctor could send him away. "How is she?"

"Captain Shepard's vital signs are stabilized for the moment but her cerebrum readings are off the charts."

"Doc, we're not duckies here," Dorrin wagged his hand, earning himself a reproving look from the older man.

"Abnormal readings. Based on the scans we're getting, I would have said something corked her on the head leading to a form of brain trauma," Hyanes brought up his datapad. "Except that there is no physical signs of injury and next to nothing under her skull and the brain."

"A form of brain trauma?" repeated Liara, hoping the human could clarify the term further.

"The forebrain mostly. There is lot of activity in the inner brain, I'd say it's almost like it's in overdrive, centred around the hippocampus..."

"Doc..," Dorrin interrupted, bringing up his hands in a pleading motion. "Layman terms, please?"

"Memory," Hyanes corrected reluctantly, missing the quick glance Liara and Javik exchanged. "Mostly to do with the function that deals with memory and I'm not sure how and why but it's also affecting the parts that controlled body functions. Her heart rate and respiration were way off normal."

"Perhaps it's a viral infection? Indigestion?" suggested Dorrin before he snapped his fingers. "Maybe something from the forcefield. Everything has to be tried," he shrugged when Hyanes stared disapprovingly at him for his flippancy.

Putting down the datapad, Hyanes frowned at Liara. "Dr T'Soni, you were with her on Ilos. Could you describe what happened?"

"I am afraid I have no idea. She was talking to the V.I. and then collapsed after bringing down the forcefield."

Somewhat disbelieving, Hyanes persisted. "How did she do that? Did she touch something?"

Returning his suspicous gaze without flinching, Liara said evenly, "I have no idea how she did it. They were conversing in an unknown language and she touched nothing during the entire course of the event."

"So...," began Hyanes but Dorrin cut in, "Doc, can something be done to return her brain to its normal state?"

"That's just it, I'm not sure what I'm dealing with here. I've to reduce her to a near coma to prevent any more triggers among the other cerebral functions," Hyanes consulted his datapad again. "I suggest we get her back to the specialists back home..."

"No," Liara said firmly, "I want to bring her back to Thessia."

"Dr T'Soni...," began Hyanes, "I'm not sure that is a wise course to take, given that Captain Shepard is a human..."

"Dr Hyanes, thank you," Liara cut in politely, "but since I am her spouse, I have the right to decide what is best for her. Is that not right?" she glanced at Dorrin.

Having taken for granted that Liara would follow the usual course; letting Shepard be seen to by the Alliance, Dorrin was startled at the sudden turn. Did she not trust human doctors? Or did she know what was ailing Shepard? He was inclined towards the latter but he was not sure she was making the right call. The unvoiced plea in her eyes decided him. "Yes," he said gravely; nodded imperceptibly to Hyanes's unvoiced query as the medico stared at him. "I'll contact Alliance Command and see if we couldn't beat off two birds with one stone. Excuse me," he walked out of the medical bay, knowing that Hyanes would have much to say and he preferred that their discussion took place elsewhere.

"I'll continue to monitor and notify you if there are any changes," Hyanes excused himself and strolled quickly after Dorrin, leaving Liara to stare anxiously at the medbed where Shepard was lying.

Walking to the bed brought back a myriad of memories; the smell of blood, raw flesh and medicines. The faint cries and voices amidst the flurry of activity among the beds and pallets were all background noises when her entire being was focused on one bed where one heavily bandaged figure had lain. She reached out to touch her face, as pale then as it was now and closed her eyes hopefully, seeking the link that they had forged but not daring to delve too deeply.

"Nothing," she whispered, brushing back a stray strand of hair from Shepard's forehead. "When she was recovered from the Citadel Tower, she was seriously injured but even then, I could feel her essence but now..."

Javik hesitated, his hand raised as if to touch Shepard and then let it dropped to his side. "You are right to insist. I do not think the humans would understand her condition."

"I am not certain..," taking a deep breath, Liara forced away the fear. _No, I must not think in such a way. Someone on Thessia will know what to do._ "Will you come to Thessia, Javik?" she did not take her eyes off from the pale face, red hair a startling brilliant contrast against the white pillow.

"I will."

* * *

**Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System**

Half thinking the Alliance had made a mistake, Garrus made a mental note never to mention that to Shepard, he planted himself before the holodisplay on the bridge when the _Claw_ made transition through the relay. Within seconds, the display lit up with several icons as sensors picked up ship transponders in the area. Leaning forward, he ran his eyes over the tags and blinked in astonishment when he saw the green icon designated Ranoch, a Geth dreadnought. A clue in itself as to how the Alliance had scrapped up the elements to disable the Cerberus taskforce. It should not have been a surprise really, given that Geth forces were detailed to every Allied homeworld to aid in the removal of Reaper remnants but then, those were the lighter weight ships. Heavy guns like the dreadnought were mostly based at the Quarian homeworld and the Citadel. To wrangle a Geth dreadnought into a taskforce under a foreign flag would take some doing. Or would it? It had the touch of his old buddy, he'd bet a year's credits on it.

Flicking his eyes to the other icons, he noted that an Alliance carrier, a frigate and service ships were in the system as well. No cruiser. There should have been one or two, unless the Alliance were that confident the Geth dreadnought was more than enough for the rogue forces. He never thought he would hear of them again but he supposed it was inevitable given their appellation. How ever did the Alliance learn about their continual existence and movements was something he would have liked to know but the humans had not chosen to share what intel they had. Or rather, they had not chosen to share with him, he was certain Victus was the only one who had all the details.

A swarm of smaller ships flitted among two highlighted locations of battle debris, busy in the task of salvaging from enemy wreckage. He watched as the pilot maneuvered the _Claw_ through the field of debris around the disabled dreadnought, the largest concentration of the two. As they neared the vessel, the pilot chose an approach that gave the best view on the hull and his eyes narrowed at the bold decal; CSV Aurora. The gall of those dogs. There better be loads of information in the computer mainframe that would lead them to the bandit hideout and he was going to make sure they stay down this time.

Having seen enough, he made his way to the docking bay where the squad were making preparations. Picking up his helmet and weapons laid ready on the nearby workbenches, he ran a check on his equipment before inspecting the troops. Satisfied, he boarded the waiting shuttle with the squad behind him. Rather than sit in the cargo compartment, he went to the cockpit as the shuttle took off. With the frigate parked relatively close to the dreadnought, it was a short hop to the emergency airlock near the bridge. Barely time for him to try to pick out the structural differences that might tell him the origin of the vessel's construction but enough for him to see the scale of the damage it had taken. Returning to the compartment, he ran the squad through one last pre-boarding check. With no boarding tube, they opened the hatch and waited for the pilot to align with the airlock before hacking the door controls.

The door snapped aside to reveal a dimly lit airlock. With tiny jumps, they floated into the room and closed the hatch before opening the inner hatch. Looking cautiously down the dim corridor, he waited patiently as scans were taken. Though scan readings from the Claw showed no heat radiation, he was not certain there would be nothing lying in wait for them. Husks, for one thing, did not radiate much heat and even though the Reapers were gone, he could not be certain Cerberus had not made their own. If not husks, there could be a hundred and one other horrors they might come up with and he had no intention of having any of them score a hit on his troops.

Satisfied that there was nothing beyond, he signaled the lead scout and they moved into the corridor. The airlock was two corridors away from the bridge. It should be clean and fast; get in, break into the computer mainframe, siphon all the data and get out. They moved steadily down the passage, taking a left turn at the intersection and he noted the security camera at the junction. The walls of the corridor were smooth and there were more security cameras mounted at regular intervals. Were they active? Even though the dreadnought suffered massive damage, there was still enough reserve power to keep several systems online for quite some time. He kept his gaze on the nearest camera; it did not move. That didn't prove anything however, if someone was watching them, the next camera would pick them up easily.

Then there was one other thing that was nibbling away at him. "Halt," he said quietly, the squad froze immediately. Turning about, he examined the walls. There should have been two doors leading to sensor and tactical but there were none to be seen. Bringing up his omni-tool, he called up the blueprint of the dreadnought and he knew there was trouble when the map affirmed his suspicions. Did Cerberus simply sealed over the doors or did they change the layout during the overhaul? If it was the latter, there was no certainty they were heading towards the bridge. Irregardless, either complication set his teeth on edge and he didn't like it one bit; there was no cover for them in the corridor should anything come upon them.

"Rockets out and armed," he motioned to the soldiers carrying the rocket launchers, "ready to fire on my command." Out of the corner of his visor, he thought he saw one of the cameras swiveled. Just so slightly that nobody would have noticed if they weren't keeping an eye on it. More than anything, it affirmed that someone was watching them, if he was right. Surviving Cerberus crew at the bridge? Lifting his sniper rifle, he shot out the nearest camera, ordering the scouts to take out any that they could see and was about to get the squad moving when there came the faint whine of servos. The lead scout was the first to see alcoves opening in the walls further up the passage and shouted a warning as tall shapes appeared.

"Ogre mechs!"

"Open fire!" he shouted but the rocket troopers were already letting loose before the words left his mouth. A flowing murderous fusillade exploded in the passage. If the mechs fired off one rocket or returned fire in unison their way, they would all be wiped out. "Charge!" he shouted as green globs and streaks of yellow beams came at them, impacting and exploding against the walls. One of the soldiers was not fast enough and fell, half his head taken off. Another dropped, armor perforated.

Grenades went flying as they charged, showers of hot metal chips and plating flying everywhere. By now, they could see there were two more ogres blocking the way, the two that had been in the front having taken the brunt of the first assault, laid smoking in broken parts. From the raised arms of the ogres, he could see they were preparing to send a salvo at them and shouted. The squad threw themselves to the floor as the rocket troopers fired off a quartet of missiles, blasting off the arms. Another hail from rifles took the ogres apart.

Jumping to his feet, Garrus exhorted the squad to move. It didn't matter any more if there was a bridge at their target area. Finding cover was vital and they were not going to get it if they stayed in the passage. The remnants of the Ogres scattered under their feet as they pounded down the corridor, shooting out any cameras that they see and coming to another stop at the next intersection.

Using his corner scope, the scout reported a group of ramparts moving towards them. Risking a look himself, Garrus did a quick count; six. Point one in his favour was that they were bunched up. The bad news was that ramparts were upgraded Loki mechs. Baring the Ogres whose bad side was raw firepower and size, the toughest security robot he would put at the top of the list was the rampart. Tough but not impossible to take down...as long as there weren't as many as he had faced with Shepard at Cronos Station. Six was manageable.

Silently, he gestured to the squad, noting that two had gone down and several were wounded. Half the squad retreated back down the passage as mines were carefully laid. Plucking a compound sticky grenade from his belt, he waited until the scout reported that the mechs were a few meters away. Quick as a flash, he leaned around the corner and planted the grenade on the ceiling above the ramparts before hightailing after the rest of the squad back down the corridor, hearing the swift whine of servos as the mechs spotted the movement. The grenade went off as he slide to a stop, coming to a crouch as he readied his rifle.

When the ramparts hoved into view, the mines went off and the squad fired steadily into the scintillating figures. Returned fire was sporatic as the mechs were knocked back and staggered by the hard pressure. Heavily damaged, their shotguns exploded, sending fiery residues all around them which burned and ate into their armor plating. When the last mech crumbled to the floor, the scout scooted cautiously back to the intersection. With the all clear, they made their way past the jumbled of broken sizzling parts; running through quickly to get as little of the residue as possible on their boots. From there, it was just a short distance to the doors of the bridge.

Looking up and down the passage, Garrus waited tensely as one of the soldiers hacked through the door controls. With two of the squad down and most of their heaviest ammunition expended, he wasn't looking forward to another protracted fight. If another group of mechs appeared, they would have to call it off and retreat to the shuttle. That was not in his book though; retreating to come back again. No, he was going to get in there and find the answers to his questions, no matter what it took. As if his thoughts had summoned them, one of the scouts warned of movement in one of the off passages. Gritting his teeth, he glared at the hacker; not that the soldier could see it, before ordering the scouts to return and take up defensive positions.

Tension increased by the minute as they waited. When the doors suddenly snapped open, it was as if the spirits had heard his prayer and he moved to step in. Only to freeze at the strange sight that greeted him. It was the bridge and yet it was not. There were no workstations and no bodies to indicate there were any bridge crew. Instead of the holotank at the center, there was a chair-like device in the middle of a raised platform and thick wiring and pipes ran down from the ceiling and flooring to wound around it. A single terminal stood at the edge of the platform.

"Sir, the mechs are approaching," warned one of the scouts.

"Get in," he ordered. Irregardless of what the room was, it was safer than standing out there. "Seal it and put in the remaining mines."

What was the chair? The squad fanned out as he walked slowly towards it. There was someone sitting in it, he was sure he saw pale limbs and the side of a face. "Spirits," he muttered in horror when he saw clearly what it was as he moved nearer.

A human woman whose blue eyes stared blankly into the air. Was she alive? He waved his hand before her face and nearly jumped back when she blinked. Looking more carefully, he realized the chair was more of a holding contraption. All he could see of her was her head, her hands and the lower calves. The rest were hidden under a body-like mold. Looking at her face again, he could see she was young and gaunt. Her head had been shaved and streaks of black were reaching up her neck and across her face. Did she have something behind her nape? Peering closer, he made out what it was and felt ill. If he was right, there wasn't any need for a bridge crew.

"Can you hear me?" he said softly, not expecting an answer.

One of the engineers who had been examining the terminal spoke up. "Sir, I think this links to the main frame."

Taking a deep breath, Garrus nodded. "Hack through and download everything."

The engineer nodded and began to work. Just as Garrus was bending down to look under the chair, a muffled whomp at the doors brought him up again. The mechs were at the doors. There was time. The doors were quadruple layered but even they would give way under a steady onslaught. Abandoning the platform, he made a quick survey of the bridge and stifled a curse. There were supposed to be a few life pods to provide a means of escape for the bridge crew but the junctions at where they were supposed to be were blank slates of smooth metal. Clearly, there wasn't any need for them since there was only the one crewman who wouldn't even need it. The sounds at the doors grew thunderous, the din filling the entire bridge.

"How much longer?" he rasped.

"Another few more minutes," the engineer said tightly, eyes pinched in his tension. The rest of the squad waited, weapons at the ready even as Garrus considered his options. The sound of screaming metal brought his attention back to the entrance; the doors were buckling. Drawing his pistol, he aimed it at the woman.

"Are the mechs linked to her?"

"Sir?"

"You heard me!"

Frantically, the engineer tried to come up with an answer but the flow of data was too fast for him to narrow down the information he wanted. A minute ticked by. The doors screeched as if they were in pain and then, everything went silent. The abruptness of it was a shock and the engineer found himself staring at a dead screen.

"I'm sorry," Garrus whispered as he lowered the pistol, reaching to close the woman's eyes.

"Sir...the mainframe is dead," the engineer removed the datapod he had jacked into the terminal.

"How much did you manage to get?"

"Perhaps two-thirds."

Putting away his pistol, Garrus nodded. "It'll have to do. Blow the mines."

Thumbing a switch, one of the soldiers set off the mines, blowing open the buckling doors to reveal a packed mass of inert Ramparts behind.

Shaking his head, Garrus said, "All right, let's clear this mess and haul our ass back to the _Claw_."

* * *

**SSV Glasgow**

Unhooking Shepard's armor bodysuit from the cleaner, Liara examined it carefully for any signs of tearing before folding it carefully and securing it in the duffle with the armor pieces. Another swipe of the aseptic cloth over the helmet before it went into the holding bag. Tightening the straps, she brought the duffle over to the bed and went around the cabin, making sure she had not left out anything and nearly missed the black coloured pouch lying beneath the armchair cushion.

Smiling, she lifted it and paused as her fingers hovered over the pouch as she thought over what lain within; Shepard's carving tools. Tools that she never thought she would handle again after putting them aside from the moment she joined the N7 training course. Tools of creation that she thought Shepard had forgotten and it pleased her that her bondmate had once more picked up the pursuit she loved.

Tried as Shepard might to hide it from her over the last few months, she knew her bondmate had been working on an item. An item for her. Was it completed? Her fingers plucked at the fastening. The temptation was strong. But no. She shouldn't. She would leave it to her bondmate to present it to her. She knew she would. Taking a deep breath, she patted the pouch and walked over to the bed to put it safely away among Shepard's clothing.

The door chimed and she opened it to find a crewman waiting to help her with the duffles. After another look around the cabin, she picked up her own and Shepard's personal duffle and followed the crewman to the lift, taking it down to the docking bay. Javik was already waiting for her, his own pack slung on his shoulder. Together, they went to the shuttle and saw the SBAs maneuvering Shepard's pallet into the cargo compartment. After securing the pallet and checking Shepard again, Hyanes nodded to Liara and left.

The human doctor had been polite during the journey to Thessia but he was not happy. Liara knew that but that was none of her concern. He didn't and wouldn't know how to deal with Shepard's condition and she was certain none of the specialists he had harped on knew any better. None of the humans had any experience with mind melding and they tend to be hostile to practices in which they themselves perceive as alien. If she had given Shepard over to them, it was all too likely they would simply leave her to vegetate in their ignorance.

A soft cough over her shoulder as she secured the duffles in the storage compartment drew her attention. "Liara?"

"Dorrin?" she frowned when he beckoned to her and followed him out of the shuttle to stand near the engines. To prevent anyone from overhearing them, she knew. "What is it?" she didn't like the anxious glint in his eyes.

"You know Dr Hyanes is not too happy with your decision," he looked about them to be sure the medico was not around. "He raised hell and shit with me the other day, wanting to send Shepard to Earth. I got some backing when I spoke to the old man, he agrees with you. But," he hesitated. "We have to inform Shepard's next of kin."

Realization hit her. "Oh."

"Admiral Shepard is...," he sighed. "Look, the old man says you're going to have to talk to her. He doesn't like to stamp his foot down in personal matters."

"Is she coming to Thessia?" Liara wondered what she was going to do to persuade Shepard's mother.

"Yeah, so...don't let her browbeat you. You know best...it's going to be fine," he said encouragingly. "Shepard knows you have her back."

"That I do. Thank you, Dorrin," she hugged him gratefully.

"Just get her back on her feet. I hope to see you both soon," he patted her back gently. "Go on, you don't want to miss the shuttle," he said jokingly.

She smiled and waved to him as she stepped back onboard. The hatch closed as she buckled in beside Javik. Looking out the window, she could see Dorrin watching as the shuttle lifted and then he was lost to sight as they departed.

_What am I going to say to her?_


	51. Chapter 51

**Words of note**

**Lisael - a blended vegan drink**

**OCS - officer cadet school**

* * *

**Thessia**

_"So this is London," she stared across the black landscape blanketed with dim grey broken buildings, wreckage of vehicles and debris. A cold breeze strolled across, depositing that familiar acrid stench of dust, battle and death around her. It reminded her achingly of Thessia._

_"Definitely not at its best," agreed Shepard, leaning on a bent elbow against the sill of the windows. "One of many cities I've thought of visiting after reading so much about it in classes but never did quite managed to," she shrugged. "Thought I'd get a chance drop by after graduating from OCS but I was bounced to a posting so fast that whatever plans I made pretty much went the way of the Dodo."_

_"Dodo?" she frowned._

_Shepard snorted mirthlessly. "A flightless bird that was destroyed by human influence hundreds of years ago. Stamped out before humans even understood anything about it other than food. One of my schoolmates loves nature so much he spent all his free time digging into the archives and often announced that humans are a hopeless ravaging savage species. He would regale us with stories of our sins at every opportunity."_

_"What happened to him?" she asked curiously._

_"I've no idea," Shepard shrugged. "Got bounced to another base after two years when the old lady received a new posting. Maybe he came back here to work as a conservationist or perhaps he's still back there. Or maybe he changed, who knows."_

_Silence fell. Looking down into the street, she tried to imagine what it had been like before but couldn't. Not with the presence of so many soldiers, the parked Makos, the defense barrier stretching across the street and the unseen looming Juggernaut beyond._

_"We could come back here after the war," she said tentatively. "When they have finished rebuilding."_

_"Yeah, we could," running a hand through her short hair, Shepard sighed. "It wouldn't be the same but better than having nothing to return to."_

_"London cannot have been the only place you have wanted to visit."_

_Smiling, Shepard turned, sliding her hands over her bondmate's hips and pulled her closer. "No. I'd like to scope out every continent, every island on this planet, poke into every nook and cranny. Just about everywhere, I guess. Growing up on the colonies made me curious about the place where my kind spawned from. I'd like to find out how they live, taste the real cultural differences in festivities, the seasons and most of all, having a go at real food for once," she watched the the pensive face as fingers ran over her chest armor._

_"So food is what you really miss most?" she traced the N7 logo distractedly; there was little time left._

_"Well, I guess. I mean I heard plenty that colony cuisines are phonies compared to the real thing so I've been meaning to try the so called genuine stuff. Something like curry, heard it can really blow the mind."_

_"I guess we can both find out," she turned her head at the sounds of movement from the street below; soldiers gathering at the Makos. Her heart thumped faster at the sight._

_A finger under her chin turned her head back to brilliant blue eyes. "Hey, it's going to be fine. It's not as if I'm going in with canons blazing."_

_"No, but you will have no backup..."_

_"We had no backup when we hit Ilos either, remember? Nor when my team and I took down the Collectors. It's no different this time round except that I'm going to piggyback on the enemy than the Mako and the Normandy. I sneak in, I sneak out and those Reapers will be dead before they know it," Shepard said confidently before leaning in. "And I expect to see you at the end of it so you better be there," she whispered next to her lips breathing in her scent._

_"Speak for yourself...," she managed to say before speech was denied her. Warmth suffused her and she held on tightly, not caring that anyone who walked into the room would see them._

_I love you Shepard._

_Shepard._

Blinking bemusedly, Liara stared up at the ceiling before realising she was in bed, in their bedroom on the T'Soni estate, clenching a pillow tightly to herself. It had only been a dream. A recollection of that moment before Shepard departed for the mission to get on to the Citadel which had been under Reaper control. Glancing at the empty space beside her, she sat up, struggling not to feel the rush of lost and emptiness.

_Goddess, how long have I been asleep?_

Panicked, she twisted around to look at the chronometer on the nightstand and threw the pillow aside. Sliding off the bed, she hurried into the bathroom, ran through a quick shower and was at the wardrobe in no time, pulling on a long tunic, trousers and boots before stepping through the door. Down the winding staircase she went and fetched up abruptly against someone who was just turning the corner of the newel post. Both of them staggered back from the impact.

"I am sorry, dad," said Liara when she saw who it was.

"You are just in time too, save these legs of mine," Aethyta waved aside the apology and took hold of Liara's hand.

"In time for what?" Liara cast a look at the front door, desiring to rush to the skycar and to the medical centre.

"I know what it is you want," pulling Liara firmly behind her, Aethyta headed for the kitchen. "But you are not running off on an empty stomach."

"But..."

"You have been at her side for a whole day," Aethyta nodded to Effia as they entered the kitchen and pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. "Sit," she commanded, "or I can get the commandos to help," she added when Liara hesitated.

Sitting down reluctantly, Liara murmured her thanks when Effia set two steaming bowls before her. The aroma that wafted to her nose sparked off hunger pangs that she had not been aware of. Picking up the spoon beside the bowl, she dug into the thick stew. Dipping with less speed into her own bowl opposite her, Aethyta watched her carefully, noting there were still shadows around the eyes but the tightly restrained tension wound up within was considerably reduced. Nothing like a good rest to boost the spirit. She heaved a tiny sigh of relief when Liara finished the stew and asked for another which Effia dished up swiftly before depositing two glasses filled with Lisael before them.

"That Prothean of yours gives me the creeps," she said conversationally, sipping from the glass. "I couldn't figure out which pair of eyes I should be looking at."

"He is not my Prothean," Liara chuckled. "He has a name, you know that. I understand that he can be quite intimidating but given your past occupation, isn't he quite plebian?"

"Plebian?" scoffed Aethyta. "My dear, he is at the top of the food chain. So...," she paused dramatically, "aristocratic. I can see why his species had the run of the galaxy."

Liara eyed her suspiciously. "What have you been saying to him?"

"What do you think I've been saying to him? All he does is stare at me out of those predatory eyes of his," Aethyta shuddered, "that and spending all his time dipping in the fountains at the garden room."

"Dad, he is a Touch Sensitive," Liara paused as a thought occurred to her. "You have not been railing at him over what they did to us, have you?" she sighed when Aethyta said nothing. "Dad."

"I simply asked him several questions which he apparently didn't feel like answering," draining her glass, Aethyta set it carefully back on the table. "There are so many things we could learn."

"Dad, he was born on a world that was already engaged in the struggle against the Reapers," Liara said earnestly. "He was brought up to fight, that was all he knew. If you are expecting esoteric revelations, you are not going to get it."

"I know, I was merely trying him on for size."

"Dad, really," Liara rolled her eyes. "If you want to dig that deep, you should try Vigil at the Ilos Archives. Speaking of which," she added, the glint of anxiety returning. "Is there any new development?"

Aethyta nodded to the half finished glass before Liara. "Finish that and let's get over to the medical centre. The Prothean...Javik," she corrected at a chiding look from Liara, "went there early this morning."

That was no answer but Liara knew better than to wrinkle out a definitive statement from her. Swallowing the remnants of the drink in large gulps, she hurried out of the kitchen after a quick swipe of the napkin over her lips, down the hall to the foyer. The two commandos waiting by the skycar opened the doors immediately when they saw her. Without a word, Aethyta sat down next to her in the back seat and the commandos set themselves at the front. The vehicle lifted smoothly and flew in the direction of the city, slipping into a designated side lane before joining the main traffic vein.

With no distractions, all the questions and fears came crashing in once more on Liara as she stared unseeingly at the stream of skycars through the window. Aware of her inner turmoil, Aethyta reached out to grasp her hand in her own, patting soothingly. There was not much she could say to alleviate her offspring's anxieties but she could offer empathetic support. The pressure on her hand tightened, a painful vise-like grip, as the skycar approached the medical centre but she said nothing. Without attempting to disengage, she drew Liara out after her once the skycar set down at the lobby on the upper floor leading to the wards.

One of the commandos followed after as her companion drove the skycar away to one of the parking lots. Liara said nothing but kept abreast of Aethyta as they wound through the crowd of medical personnel, patients, visitors and various obstacles in the corridors. To her surprise, instead of heading for the isolation quarter where Shepard was warded, Aethyta made for the elevators that would lead to the administration offices. Rather than asked a dozen questions, she chose to hold them off, knowing wherever they were going to, there would be answers forthcoming. She hoped. It was then she realised of her death grip on Aethyta and let go, returning an embarrassed smile when Aethyta looked amused.

They got off on a floor that was familiar to her and turned in at the Director's office. The accompanying commando seated herself outside as the secretary showed them into Telienos's office, with apologies that Telienos was away for the moment but would return soon. The offer of refreshments was politely declined and they settled themselves down on the couch to wait. Closing her eyes, Liara tried to center herself. And failing miserably as memories kept returning to assail her. An arm went around her shoulders and she leant gratefully against Aethyta, struggling to concentrate on her parent's comforting presence. How long they sat there, she had no idea but she sat up when the soft hiss of the door announced Telienos's presence.

"My apologies," said Telienos as she clasped hands with them before turning to sit in one of the armchairs. "I was arranging to have Lt Gallia's friends attend the dedication ceremony of the new ward next week," she smiled for a moment. "They wanted the guest list so they would know the exact number of biscuits to bring."

"Biscuits?" Aethyta said curiously.

"Apparently the human had a penchant for baking biscuits and sharing them out every time she went on duty," Telienos touched her head absently and Liara saw the faint traces of a few scars on the upper brow.

"Was it very bad?" she asked softly.

Telienos sighed. "I should not have dallied but I was distracted by a package. Lt Gallia came over to have a word with me and the TI soldier exited the elevator. She put herself in front of me and I tried to throw up a shield but it was already too late," she touched the scars again. "Nothing could stop a rocket missile at such close range," she shook her head as she recalled the terrible pain that struck her.

"I think she would be pleased to know we are dedicating a medical ward in her name," said Liara. "Would her family be attending?"

Telienos shook her head. "The Alliance said she had none. She might or might not be the only survivor of her line, she never knew it either but was conducting a search, according to her friends. She's buried in the hospital gardens," she looked out the window.

"The Alliance allowed that?" Liara was astonished.

"Back at her own world, no one would remember her and she had made no special arrangements so I requested that she be interred here...," Telienos blinked, visibly gathering her wandering thoughts. "Perhaps we can talk of this some other time. About Shepard..."

"Do you have any solution?" interrupted Liara, quivering with anxiety as she leaned forward. "What can we do?"

"Slowly...," Aethyta patted her knee to calm her. "I presumed the physical examinations turned up nothing."

"No. It eliminates any possibility that her condition resulted from an unknown physical injury," clasping her hands in her lap, Telienos sat back. "So that leaves us with this Cipher that you spoke of."

"What?" Aethyta said uneasily when Telienos fell silent and remained so for several minutes.

"The problem here is Shepard herself," Telienos closed her eyes as she shifted her thoughts. "Bear with me. From birth, every asari is assessed for biotic abilities, resulting in two separate groups; biotics and nulls. Those with biotics began their basic training the moment they start schooling; learning to put up a protective shielding, elementary pull and throw, the etiquette on mind melding, along with the abuse and dangers of this capability. Every Asari starts out with this grounding."

"The humans do not have a comprehensive manifold program for biotics," nodded Aethyta, seeing where her friend was heading. "They are not natural biotics and their biological makeup preclude melding ability, they lack the mental and physical training requisites we have developed over the millenniums."

"That is correct," Telienos opened her eyes. "The intermediate training comes after and those who desire to enlist in the military or further training, go on the advance course. By then, shielding and memory discipline is ingrained and strengthened. Which is usually the time most maidens leave Thessia to begin their Journey. Go further beyond, the asari that returned would have matured into matriarchs who can opt for the esoteric course."

"That would be...," Liara wondered if Telienos would be willing to divulge the information, affirming what she had long suspected. Aethyta shrugged when Telienos looked at her; she knew her offspring knew more than what she was letting on.

"To name some; emphatic, analysis, healing capabilities. And the extremely rare few, like the Prothean...Javik. A Touch Sensitive. They are given the most thorough training and often relegated to planetary security. There have not been one in generations," Telienos said, a mild hint of distress on her face that Liara couldn't help but suspect she might had linked with Javik. "He came in early this morning, at my request because I wish to know exactly what he is capable of. If...we have to resort to using his abilities, I have to know the effects."

"And?" prodded Aethyta, frowning.

Rubbing her brow, Telienos said faintly, "It is bad business to be his prey. He was trained to fight, to be the vanguard against the threat to his people. What do you suppose he would do if any spies or TI crossed his path?"

Liara hesitated. "He breaks into them."

"That is correct," Telienos shuddered. "I put up my strongest shield against him and he breaks through it like it doesn't exist," she flicked a finger in the air to make her point. "Tried as I might to push him out, I couldn't and it's a ...terrible feeling. I even tried to get past his shield...," she trailed off and flung her hands opened at the futility of the attempt. "I doubt any of our top commandos can do what I failed to do. I'm not sure what would happen to a subject who put up the fiercest resistance."

"Well, lucky me you warned me in advance never to shake his hand, he would have siphoned me dry," Aethyta nudged Liara who was following up a train of thought to respond.

"You couldn't read him, could you?" she muttered, half to herself, and then shook her head as she came to a conclusion. "But no."

"What did you think of?" asked Aethyta.

"When he first awoke on Eden Prime, he touched Shepard and their exchanges were mutual. That should have been impossible but then it occurred to me that perhaps he was disoriented, in shock to bring up his barrier so his mind was opened to her at that instance."

"That is possible," agreed Telienos. "Given what I've just laid down, you can see where I'm going. Without the innate abilities and the training we have, Shepard is extremely vulnerable since she does not know how to erect a mental barrier to protect herself, I'm not sure if she is even capable of it. From what you have told me of the Cipher, it is very likely she is lost within that ...memory bubble."

Liara recalled her bondmate's evasiveness. "I...think I understand why she was afraid," she said.

"Afraid?" queried Telienos.

"I sensed fear from her before she attempted to link with the Cipher. I think..she knows that there is a chance she may be lost in there," Liara wished Shepard had spoken of it. If she had, they could have found a solution to deal with it.

"How do we get her back?" Aethyta looked expectantly at Telienos and Liara tensed.

"In such cases, the one closest to the patient holds the key to recovery. Especially more so in Shepard's case," seeing their bewilderment, she clarified further, "I asked for her files from counselor T'Fiorie. From the summaries, the stress she had been under since first contact was made with Sovereign had resulted in cumulative psychological problems that affected her intensely for two years after the war. If she had doubts of the reality arising from fear of indoctrination, then it is more vital that the one who makes contact with her is the one she trusts the most...but," Telienos paused for a moment before looking at Liara, "you are with child."

As swiftly as it came, Liara's relief disappeared. "But..," she said, dismayed by the thought that her pregnancy would prevent her from helping Shepard.

Swiftly, Aethyta put in,"What's the alternative?"

"Get the best empathetic healer to try to get her out," Telienos regarded her sombrely.

"Isn't that you?" Aethyta stared at her but Telienos looked away. "I'm not sure I can," she murmured, eyes shadowed.

"Why not? No," Liara corrected herself. "No, I am the closest to her. I am her bondmate."

"Liara..," Aethyta put her hand to Liara's shoulder, not wishing her to take the risk.

"I am her _bondmate_," Liara emphasized adamantly, "without her...I...," she tried to put words to how she felt but couldn't get them past a throat swollen with suppressed tears.

Before either of the matriarchs could come up with a respond, Aethyta's omni-tool blipped. "Yes?" she said to Effia after accepting the in-coming call.

"Archeina, Admiral Shepard has just arrived and is on her way to the medical centre."

Telienos's eyes widened at that. "Admiral Shepard...her mother?" she asked and added when Liara nodded. "How very remiss of me," she said uncomfortably. "I've totally forgotten she was on her way here. In which case, we have another optional choice..."

Liara knew what she was about to say and cut in. "No, she...Goddess forgive me but she is the worst choice. Their relationship is cordial but not warm. Shepard will never believe her mother."

"Then you will have to convince her," said Aethyta sympathetically; this was one battle her offspring would have to fight herself but she was confident she reach the finishing line in splendor. "Without her cooperation, there will be a diplomatic incident should she choose to go that far."

"How much time do I have?" Liara was certain there was a time frame. Like all illnesses, the longer it took to apply the remedy, the worse the illness would turn.

"It has been five days, the faster she comes out of it, the better," Telienos did not envy Liara the tasks she faced but seeing the fierce determined light in the young Asari's eyes, she had no doubt Liara would never give up until she had a consensus in her favour.

* * *

**Local Cluster, Unknown location**

"Dr Hyanes is dogmatic and biased...that is the most wholesome denotative I can think of by the way," said Chakwas dryly, "but I seriously doubt he really understands what he is dealing with."

"So you think T'Soni did the right thing," Miranda laid aside the datapad and eyed the doctor on the vidcom.

"I know Liara. She knows what she is doing," Chakwas's tone was firm and assured. "Funny, when I think of the time when she first came onboard the Normandy, she was such a green stripling, irregardless of her only a hundred and one years, so apprehensive about herself and everyone else around her. And then Shepard had to rub off on her, get the shell off that fortitude she had been hiding...then of course she had to fall in love with Shepard," she chuckled, eyes misty with recollections.

"Then I guess we shall be hearing from Shepard soon enough."

"That we will," Chakwas glanced to the side. "It's getting late so I'll just end here. I'll update you if there is any further news. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, doc," Miranda reached to close down the console as the vidcom darkened. Gathering up the datapads on her desk, she deposited them into the top drawer before enabling the security lock. Grabbing the labcoat hanging from the back of her chair, she pulled it on as she pushed the chair aside with her foot and headed for the door.

Outside, the corridor was peaceful; the occasional staff and guard floating through. A deceptive setting at best. One that was easily dispelled when she rode the elevator two floors above and paused by the windows that gave a grand view of the landing pads in the distance and the hustle and bustle taking place around shuttles and freighters. Forklift trucks spun to and fro, offloading materials onto flatbeds which were then trundled away in the direction of the cold rooms. Overhead, squadrons of fighters passed by as marines and turrets stood watch over the entire operation. All of which could be easily disrupted by a few well directed torpedoes from certain vantage points. That was, if there were no flotilla keeping watch over the skies.

Tugging at her coat, she turned away from the windows and strolled down the corridor, making various turns before ending up at the security doors of the life sciences laboratories. Ignoring the lights running over her, she pressed a button on the door panel and waited as a scan was taken of her eye. The doors snapped aside and she stepped in to a quiet constrained atmosphere as techs scurried to and fro from station to station, consulting and murmuring in low voices as fingers flipped hardcopies and tabbed quickly at datapads as data flowed across the display screens. Looking around, she spotted the tall thin figure at the holotank at the center of the room and made her way to him.

"Dr Accosi."

"You're just in time," he said without looking away from the console before him, fingers tapping away. "Several relatively intact specimens have been recovered and moved to secured storage. The bits and pieces are in the technical holdings, the lads are looking through them now. And..over here," he gnawed his lips absently as the holotank blinked into life, "we've this baby to look into."

Crossing her arms, she stared at the familiar image and memories of the times she had run across the Oculi flashed before her eyes. Once on the Normandy SR 2 at the galactic core and then on Earth, up close and personal as she and the Allied company she was with, fought against the Reaper forces. The powerful beam weapons from those red 'eyes' had taken out many and she had nearly been dissected by one in her bid to provide cover for a wounded soldier. The gun port of the beam weapon on the specimen was inert and dark but it remained an ominous visage to her.

"Let's see...," Accosi muttered, tapping a key to turn the holographic image. "This one has mostly retained the outer shell...atmospheric vanes...maneuvering ports...gun port...it looks similar in design to the Reaper Oculus."

"I'm thinking there wouldn't be much difference in components," said Miranda, reading the inflowing data as scanners over at the holding cell ran numerous scans over the Oculus held down securely in the cold room.

"I would concur," murmured Accosi distractedly as he stared intently at the Oculus. "There's only a through and through, no other damage," he highlighted the hole on the shell.

"Lucky pilot, it's hard to put them out with one shot," observed Miranda.

"Yeah, if I were that pilot, I'd take a run at the casino while the luck holds," he said as he called up the haptic controls of robotic arms. Tapping with his left hand on the console as he jabbed the right into the 'glove' like control, he enabled the cutting tool of the right arm. "I'm going to take a guess that the driver of this contraption is no Collector drone," he said as concentrated beams began to cut into the metal.

"Doesn't take a genius to figure out what they'll be using," she said dryly.

"That is not aim at me, is it?" Accosi said plaintively though he didn't take his eyes off from his task.

"You know you have my outmost respect."

"But not enough to have dinner with me?"

The Miranda of old would have immediately put the man at his spot, freezing him off to the core that such a delusional thought would never ever cross his mind. But that frigid part of herself was gone. She could blame it on Shepard of course for starting the thaw. No one else had managed to get that close to her except the former Spectre and the melt had continued when she managed to save Oriana from their father at Sanctuary. Throwing herself full heartedly into the war had been the final cap and she had not regretted it one bit. However, she didn't think she was ready for a relationship and Accosi had been after her ever since she stepped foot into the research facility.

Hiding a long suffering sigh as she pretended to rub an itchy spot on her nose, she tried to find a less cutting reply. "Have you seen the menu for this place?"

"Is that all that is?" he said incredulously, turning to look at her. "You should have said so. Look, I can rustle something up at my place."

"You're saying you can cook?" she said in disbelief. "You've been eating at the canteen as far as I know."

"And why would I be eating the stash I brought in by myself? It's a special stash, cost me an arm and leg," he wagged his fingers as he counted. "Negotiating with the freighter captain, the cargomaster and let me tell you, they begrudged every little space my stash took up, complaining how much fuel the weight takes up. And then there's security, they want to put the lot under intense scanning. Can you imagine the amount of damage that does? The entire stash would have been garbage by the time they finished with it, further..."

"When did you bring in the...stash?" she interrupted. If it was fresh food, she was certain they didn't last long. In which case, she wouldn't like to subject herself to food poisoning.

"Um...," he flushed and fidgeted. "Just a few days ago...I was..um...you know," he shrugged uncomfortably. "Trying to...um...well, trying to figure out a way to ask you," he said in a rush when she stared at him. "So what do you say?" he looked at her hopefully.

The shrill of an alarm from the console cut across her reply. "Oh shit," he cursed when he saw he had forgotten to shut off the cutting beam while he was talking with her and his fingers flashed out, shutting it down immediately. "Damn, this will cost me more than an arm and a leg.," he muttered as he examined the extent of the cut. With no directional impetus, the beam had simply bore a hole through the outer and inner shell of the Oculus. The alarm only sounded when the cutting beam hit the floor. "Uuoch, that's no good," he muttered, wondering if anything vital within had been destroyed and called up the scanned images of the Oculus.

After determining that the beam had not done any extensive damage, he resumed cutting and removed the cut plating. Calling up another robotic arm, he sent in a probe through the opening and watched the holo display as more details began to appear.

"Armament, power core in all the same places as the Reaper Oculus. In which case," he directed the probe to the amorphous pouch nestled amidst a web of coils that snaked in and out among the hardware. "It's not complete," he said in disappointment when the image revealed a torn fleshy-like end.

"No, that one shot killed it. That looks like a spine," Miranda pointed to where the white tip of bone was showing and turned back to read the updated data. "And I was right..it's human."

"Poor sod," he sighed and cocked his head at her. "So...dinner on the loser?"

"I'm not aware we had a bet."

"You're a hard woman," he turned back to his console.

"All right, dinner it is," she sighed and hoped she wouldn't regret it.

A huge grin split his face. "Trust me, I'll whip up the best three course dinner you'll ever have," his brilliant blue eyes twinkled merrily at her and she couldn't help but smiled.


	52. Chapter 52

**Words of note**

**BoMR - bureau of manpower and reserves**

**BrDA - bureau of research, development and acquisition**

**BAO - bureau of Alliance operations**

**TaIWR - tactical and intelligence war room**

* * *

**Local Cluster, Earth, Unknown Location**

As she swept her gaze slowly across the bank of monitors, the beginnings of an ache on her lower back warned her she had been sitting too long. Sighing, she pushed away from the long counter and stood up, using her heel to shove the chair further back. Clasping her hands together, she began a series of stretching exercises, keeping her eyes on the security monitors even as she did so. Counting silently, she began limbering bends, reaching down to touch the floor beneath her boots and exulted in the feeling of loosening muscles and tendons. It was only temporary, everything would stiffen up after an hour or so after she sat back down but her shift was ending in two hours so it wasn't so bad. A long run around the barracks before dinner would shake out the kinks.

As she straightened, her gaze lit on a pair of cool pale eyes across the counter. It took a second to register there was a uniform looking at her. Then another to recognize the strips and double stars on the shoulder boards and the glittering tabs of four stars on each collar. Her spine automatically stiffened and her hand snapped up in a crisp salute before she knew who was standing before her and she tried not to wilt when the next second slammed home the identity of the officer.

"Admiral Hackett, sir!" she struggled not to display her dismay at the squeak of her voice before a spark of annoyance flared that the guards at the entrance had not given warning. Or perhaps they couldn't; the old man was known to make unexpected drop ins to test the alertness of Alliance personnel. If they had sent her a call, she'd bet the old man would know about it. It was said he had eyes at the back of his head and that nothing escaped his scrutiny.

"As you were, Lieutenant," he said impassively.

Clearing her throat softly, she said carefully, "Would the Admiral require an escort to the TaIWR?" Just as the words left her mouth, she noticed the two armored and armed marines standing behind him and fervently wished a hole would open up and swallow her whole for her inattention. One gaffe after another. What would the Admiral think?

"That will not be necessary, lieutenant. Carry on," he turned to go and looked over to add, "Your efforts to duty is laudable but prudence is by far the better policy."

"Sir!" she snapped another salute, grateful that part of her arm hid the flush rising past her collar and only lowered it when he had moved past the checkpoint. Exhaling noisily, she hooked her foot behind the spoked legs of the chair and pulled it forward as she sat down. With the old man around and two hours more to go, she was going to keep every sensor about her on high alert. And for the extra boost, she reached for the keyboard and typed a quick message into the canteen email box; a hot cup of coffee, extra bitter, ought to do the trick. Hopefully, she would be back at the barracks by the time the old man left, she didn't think she wanted to face him again. Not unless it was in better circumstances; an award ceremony or something. Yeah, that would be something. Provided she pulled some other assignment than dogwatch. Sighing, she pulled up the daily log and began a new entry.

Beyond the checkpoint, his arrival was duly noted and the guards beyond the checkpoint weren't caught out as the hapless lieutenant. Down the corridor the tiny group sailed, turning corners that would have thoroughly confused a newcomer; there were many turns and twists, before taking an elevator a few floors below and then several meters down another corridor. The marines peeled off to stand with a sentry quartet outside a pair of heavily armored doors as Hackett paused for the scanners to scope out every bit of his fibre. With a soft hiss, the heavy doors opened and he stepped into a dim cool cavernous room and ran a quick glance over the numerous lit displays, bright in the dimness.

Numerous shadows shifted and moved quietly and none leapt up to salute as he strode slowly along the banks of workstations ranged around a huge holotank. Not that the officers did not notice his presence but that they were carrying out his standing order that no one was to disrupt his or her work whenever he came down to the war room. Gleaming large and brightly above them was a holographic image of the Earth. The image spun slowly, as if mimicking the revolution of the globe, hued in various colours and hosting numerous tags on every continent. He stood for a moment to examine it and was pleased; less than ten percent of the planet remained under TI control.

"Marvelous sight, isn't it, sir?" murmured someone on his right.

"One that we would not see without the enormous sacrifices of the men and women who have made it possible," he said softly without taking his eyes off from the holographic image.

There was no suitable response Langdon could find to that brutal but accurate acknowledgement. No doubt the old man felt the same perpetual digging thorn at the daily reminder of the number of Alliance casualties that had continued to accrue but it was that or staying scattered in the outer regions. All he could hold on to was the silver lining he could see in the distance; it would end eventually.

"What have you got for me?"

Langdon waved at another holographic tank further away. "We're still collating various possible leads from the Omega files with the latest information from operative Raz but we're still a long way to forming something tangible."

"Has Aria sent in whatever she was holding out on us?" Hackett fell into step beside Langdon as he headed to the second holographic tank.

"Mid range tracking beacon transponders frequencies," Langdon snorted, "I'm not sure how she managed to put them onboard the trading ships, Athabasca class freighters all of them, that dropped in at Omega but she did."

Crossing his arms as they came to a stop before the holographic tank, Hackett gazed at the swirling image of the Milky Way which was sectioned off into different sectors, colour coded and tagged as the image of Earth. "From which relay did they depart from after the last drop in at Omega?"

"Not the Omega 4 Relay," Langdon knew what the old man was thinking of; that the merchant vessels had vanished into said, not confirmed, Cerberus bases at the galactic core.

"What else have you come up with?"

Bending over the shoulder of the tech officer nearby, Langdon spoke softy and waited until the officer threw up new tags appeared on the map. "Cross referencing with the information from Raz and the names of every merchant vessels under every flag provided by our allies," he pointed to the highlighted tags, "we can confirm that the registries of the tracker tagged ships are faked and that they made hundreds of runs to Illium before they dropped out of sight a few months ago."

"What trade offs were made at Illium?"

"Food and seeds for metal scraps and used technical components."

"I presume there were no flight plans," said Hackett.

"None," Langdon shook his head. "As far as we can surmise, once they have done a supply run, they changed the ship registry before making another to Illium. There are several confirmed sightings of these ships, in their various guises, in the interim of their trips to and fro in several systems during the last twenty-two months."

"And then they stopped," deep in thought, Hackett fell silent. Langdon waited patiently. "Anything of significance to tie in with the ceasation?"

"Only one," Langdon said grimly. "Shortly before they disappeared, there was the incident at the asteriod belts in Pylos Nebula, Dirada System, Siano. Where the SSV _Korvin_ was ambushed and destroyed by Cerberus forces," he paused to speak again to the tech officer. "We also found something of interest," he waited until a new topography appeared, superimposed over the galaxy map, along with a slew of new tags. "This is a profile of every suspect TI kidnapping and related incidents on colonies, shipping, fuel depots, sightings and confirmed stop overs at Illium," picking up a laser pointer from the tech officer's workstation, he highlighted several lines. "These are the routes of the suspect vessels. From what we can match from analyzing time stamps, they also coincide at sectors where several isolated incidents took place."

Nodding thoughtfully, Hackett said, "Any plausible data that they made contact with localized TI?"

"We have been unable to latch on to the encrypted com channels the TI are using," Langdon said regretfully, "in addition, there was too little traffic in those sectors. They know where to hit."

"Would these be the same ships that transported the refugees from Zion to Omega?"

"From the debriefings, the names match. There is also an update from investigative teams at Zion. They found heavy concentrations of metals in the lower bunkers."

A gleam of disquiet flashed in Hackett's eyes. "They could be running a foundry...," he stared sightlessly at the galaxy map as he mentally shifted data around. "There can't be the only one, there have to be more. Hidden manufacturing industries and farming scattered about." It was a point he brought up during Parliament sessions years ago when Cerberus began to leave large footprints of their affairs. Large due to the fact he had appointed special teams to keep track of suspicious activities which the dogs had managed to keep hidden from public scrutiny. Then, he had attempted to bring about a concerted effort to cut the budding weed he could see spawning but had not been able to garner the support he needed. It had been frustrating to be overruled again and again and he could only watch the growing defiance Cerberus was exerting.

His efforts had been largely stymied by insufficient evidence and by people in the upper echelons who may or may not have been supporting Cerberus. All of which was moot given that the obstacles had been swept away in the Reaper War, he was almost right back where he started; he still had no idea where the dogs had hidden their reserves and the galaxy was a huge place to search. But then, there were still some cards he had to play. "Send out the 71st and 75th flotillas along those routes and see what they can find. If any of the ships are still within those sectors, the tracker beacons would pinpoint their location," he said.

"Yes, sir." Putting back the laser pointer on the tech officer's workstation, Langdon said, " Coffee, sir?" he led the way to his office when Hackett nodded. "Wouldn't you say they chose to pull up stakes and close up shop, stay doggo, knowing we would be on the hunt for _Korvin's_ killers?"

"That is a safe assumption," Hackett cast his eyes over the officers at the workstations as they walked to the end of the room. "What do you think of Shepard's hypothesis on their behaviour?"

"She has a point. They needn't run those raids. If they had stayed hidden after the war, there is no way we would have been prepared for them years down the road."

"Which leads me to wonder exactly how many are trying their hands at the helm," Hackett waited as Langdon opened the door of his office before stepping in.

"I'll hazard a guess," Langdon said as he closed the door behind him and enabled the security field; now no one could see into the office, sounds were muted and if there were any bugs, they would be rendered useless. Although there was already the tightest dampening field around the war room, still, it paid to be cautious. "Three," he grinned at the snort of amusement from Hackett, walking over to the small galley at the other end of the office as the older man settled down in the armchair by the coffee table and poured out two cups of coffee from the flask, adding cream and sugar. Placing a cup before Hackett, he sat down on the couch. "Too many chefs at the pot can really whack a dish," he took a sip from his own cup.

Clasping his hands together at his lap, Hackett said, "That is entirely too true. However, we can't say the same for our current problem. How are we doing with the internal screening?"

"Still ongoing, sir," Langdon said evenly. "We have cleared the upper stratum but..," he drew in a deep breath, "it's going to take months to vet the rest. If there are Terra Firma sympathizers, there can't have been many of them."

"No, they wouldn't need that many...," Hackett regarded him sombrely. "All they need is one in the right place."

At the right time. The statement hovered unsaid. With the right lever. Langdon understood, but trying to nail down the mole or moles would be near impossible. Unlike a TI, whose presence anywhere near any security scanner would immediately see to his or her arrest, a Terra Firma sympathizer or agent could not be identified so conveniently. Worse of all, with at least eighty percent of civilian and military archives destroyed in the war, there was no way to pull up any old records to audit present backgrounds of Alliance personnel.

"It's going to be difficult, sir, I'm not sure we can find anything," he confessed unhappily. "The only fact we are certain of is that they wouldn't insert anyone in the new intakes. Not when they are restricted to recruit barracks. "Right now, the word about is that all this digging about is just an exercise to revamp personnel records but I'm sure everyone knows it's a witch hunt," swallowing another mouthful of coffee, Landgon sat back.

"To the mole perhaps, the rest would just think it as bureaucratic crap," Hackett frowned. "They're not going to put a wrong foot at the moment to trip themselves up, it'll come when the time is right."

"Yes, sir," agreed Langdon. "Right now, we're keeping tabs on BoMR, BrDA and BAO personnel. Most especially tech operators."

"We'll just to wait for them to noose themselves," Hackett paused for a moment, rubbing his chin absentmindedly. "The original premise on the kidnappings is that the TI needed more manpower to replace those who have succumbed to the atrophy effects of indoctrination. If Cerberus are behind a percentage of these abductions and taking into account on what we found in the _Blackguard's_ AI core along with the reports from Primach Victus on the CSV _Aurora_, we have to factor in a larger number of ships operated by human drones. Additionally, even though Project Overlord was a disaster, they may have found a way to successfully control an indoctrinated subject merged with a V.I. , using Reaper technology. It's already done onboard the _Blackguard_ and _Aurora_, they can do it on a larger scale."

Langdon stared at him in horror. "Sir...are you saying...?"

"It is potentially a weapon," Hackett said almost musingly. "Shepard was able to prevent the Archer V.I. from escaping but what if Cerberus deliberately unleashed such a V.I. through the xtranet. Gaining control of it to spread chaos and the mole or moles within our own bailiwick, drop the security network and firewalls to allow entry. We will be left helpless, unable to retaliate because of our reliance on technology."

Numbed and whitefaced, Langdon rubbed his face in a vain attempt to dispel the images that appeared before his eyes. The xtranet was a network that linked every allied homeworld and colonies. From there, it would be easy for a hostile intelligence to squirrel through every link and take control; from basic operations like life support to industrial to military. To have it overtaken in such a manner...he closed his eyes, trying not to shake from the chill.

Gathering his thoughts with effort, he said, "That they didn't deploy it during the war...they have not perfected the technology then."

"The Illusive Man was in charge and by all accounts indoctrinated and not thinking straight. Or perhaps he was trying," Hackett reached for his cup of coffee, cold now, and took a sip. "And after the war, whoever took over did not have much clarity either. Looked at the raids that had been carried out, there wasn't much coherence. If they had intended to stay out of sight, they would have stuck to remote sectors but no, it's a baffling mixture of the logical and the reckless. Closing down their trading operations can be counted as a knee jerk reaction but I've to say something changed recently."

"Changed?" Langdon was not sure what he meant.

"They left their own troops and the Omega station to rot for over two years. Why? Then they suddenly decided to retake Omega. Again, why? Is there a change at the helm? I'm incline to go with your supposition there may have been a group in control and there had been internal conflicts but now, I think there is only one person in charge. Whoever it was did not try to send troops, he sent drone-controlled ships and mechs because he knew precisely what was on that station. If he could get the station operational again, it would serve as one focal point to launch whatever plan he has in mind. What he did not count on was our own interest in that sector. Ordinarily, we would not have ventured that far, we have our own problems here."

Oh the irony of it. Langdon laughed. "I can't believe we have the pirate queen to thank for that."

"The universe move in strange ways," Hackett smiled thinly. "Because of Aria T'Loak, we are forewarned. Let's not waste the chance we are given."

"I understand, sir. Does this mean we will be going public with our allies?" Langdon could well imagine the reaction at the news. As if the TI was not enough, now the galactic community had to tangle with yet another illusive foe.

"It's no longer a singular threat. We need as many eyes, ears and hands as we can get," Hackett paused before adding, "The Geth are already monitoring the xtranet. They will attempt to block out an invasive intelligence should such event occur but we still have to try constructing several layers of security walls of our own."

"I'll assemble the smallest team of specialists to look into it, sir," Langdon mentally made a note before a thought came to him. "Wouldn't the intelligence try to take the Geth over?"

"They're aware of the possibility but said there isn't much chance of that happening. We'll just have to take their word for it but let's make preparations for the worst of the worst situation."

That was hardly the rosy future he was looking forward to. "It's not going to be pretty if they fail, sir," Langdon tried not to think of the Geth piling on to the same wagon as Cerberus, tried to still the dread rising within.

To that, Hackett didn't comment; he could see the younger man deep down in the dumps at the thought of another terrible conflict, and said instead, "Call in the Normandy, EDI may have some insights to provide."

"Yes, sir," Langdon could use a drink but he didn't think Hackett would entertain a glass of whiskey. "What do you think, whoever is behind Cerberus now, would do next?"

"For that, you have to look at the impetus behind Terra Firma. However, the most important issue now is to try to locate those rogue trading ships. If we can find them, we should be able to determine Cerberus's hidden bases and reserves," Hackett sat forward to look at him steadily. "We survived the Reaper War, we can too, hunt those dogs down and see that they do not rise again. Are you with me?"

Was his fear that obvious? Langdon felt a shaft of shame. All those men and women bravely facing down and fighting the TI, launching themselves into battle in the belief they were fighting for the future and here he was, shaking at the knees from an overactive imagination of horrors. Sitting on his fanny day after day was definitely turning him into a dysfunctional lump not fit to wear the Alliance uniform, much less calling himself head of intelligence. No, it was time to remember who he was. Be what he was.

His spine stiffened. "Yes, sir," he said firmly.

* * *

**SSV Glasgow**

Shoulders hunched, he stared at the blank white walls of the small cabin. Other than the bed, the blanket, and the small washroom, there was hardly a stick of furniture to be seen. There was no water dispenser and no cups. There were metal bars interlacing the door of the room. Beyond which was a long empty passageway. There was nothing for him to do, there was no terminal and he had no omni-tool. It was taken away when the Turian squad came to arrest him at the Archives. They had not asked after his well being when they arrived, only to search his clothing and remove every item in his pockets.

Of course, they wouldn't. Not when he was responsible for triggering the forefield that held most of the researchers prisoners for days. Aware but unable to move, he knew what it was like; the pain, the hunger and the thirst. Most of all, the indignity of soiling himself when he couldn't hold back any longer. The contempt and disgust on the faces of the turian soldiers had been more than he could bear and he had wept. More so the cold reception when he was hauled up before the commanders of the base, read his rights and what decision had been taken to deal with his crime before taken to the medbay where he was allowed to clean himself up and changed into clean clothing and then given an energy drink.

He was not allowed to stay there, though. Imprisoned in the dormitory he used to shared with the salarian contingent, he was bombarded with questions from all directions that he could not answer. Overwhelmed with shock from his ordeal, he could only stare dumbly at them. They had left him alone then, all of them had turned away and he was sure, his compatriots were more than pleased to be rid of him when he was transferred to the human cruiser. His actions had shamed them, making them his ersatz accomplices when they had done nothing.

The hiss of an opening door broke his thoughts and he turned to look. A tall Alliance marine stood there, beckoning. It was always the same human, a Sergeant Harris, if he recalled correctly. And he always showed up to escort him for his meals. Like an automaton, he stood up and shuffled over instead of stepping quickly over with his usual fast gait. Not unkindly, the marine reached out to steady him when he stumbled at the door and then silently waved down the passageway. After two days, he knew what was expected of him so he set off down the corridor. At the end of it, one of the marines at the checkpoint hit the call button of the elevator when they saw him and his guard. Nothing was said while they waited; why would they?

The ride down was silent and he wished he could continue to ride it down into the depths. His reputation was in ruins. Even if the Council sentenced him to imprisonment and he managed to survive long enough to be released, no one would ever employ him again as a researcher. Every accomplishment, every accolade had been ground to dust by his actions. From where could he go from this unbearble hole he had dug for himself? Home? His family would relegate him to the most menial tasks suitable for the lowest circle. There would be no mating negotiations or offers for him.

The doors hissed open and he walked slowly through the sparse human traffic in the passageway. Unlike the first day when he came onboard, no one now cast curious and questioning looks his way but he looked into every face he passed, hoping for...what? A warm expression? A friendly greeting? But every human was intent on his or her own intentions and sped speedily away. A hand on his shoulder halted him and he realised he had gone past the wardroom entrance. Silently, he turned, backtracked a few paces and entered, glanced about and headed for the empty corner table. None of the diners looked up as they ate and chattered, filling the room with the hum of their conversation and the aroma of food.

The marine sat opposite him but did not bother to ask what he wanted. Nor did the human head for the evening ration table to take his pick of the dinner. No, he was there to watch his prisoner, not have a meal. One of the galley crew approached with a tray which he placed before him and left without a word. Prisoner he might be, at least the humans were kind to feed him real food instead of tossing energy bars his way. On account of his status as a prisoner, he supposed. The humans would hardly want to be accused of mistreatment.

Picking up the round metal spoon, he tasted the stew and recognised it as one of many prepacked dried rations the salarian contingent had brought to Ilos. Who had bothered to ask for it? The humans would hardly have stocked such food onboard their ship. The question whirled round in his head and he poked at it, grateful that he had something else to think about. The ullage of the stew had fallen to a quarter in the bowl when someone coughed softly next to him. He looked up to meet the impassive gaze of Captain Dorrin, Sgt Harris straightened but did not jump up; the quick flick Dorrin cast at him told him he didn't have to.

"Please, there's no need to get up," putting out a hand to halt the movement, Dorrin waited until the salarian settled back down. "I came by to see how you're doing."

"Very well, thank you..Captain Dorrin," Kedar said quietly. "You...have messages for me?"

"You have good eyes," Dorrin smiled and handed over the datapad he had been holding. "I'm also here to inform you we'll be arriving at the Citadel in two hours. I'll leave you to your dinner,' he nodded politely before strolling away.

Who would be sending him messages? Turning the datapad over and over in his hands, Kedar wondered if he dared to read them for they surely held no good news. Taking a deep breath, he glanced at the contents and saw there were only two messages. The first was an enormous surprise. Why would Jieull send him an email?

_From : Jieull _

_To : Kedar Olor_

_Do you remember what fine conversations we've had? You were so adamant at finding a solution and I advised you to leave matters alone. The problems would see to themselves. But of course you wouldn't. You couldn't. Not with an ambition as ravenous as yours. For one as supposedly as intelligent and accomplished, you didn't manage to control yourself and stay ahead of the game. What do you say now? What are you going to do now? Are you confused? I do know, however, what you are going to face soon enough and I wish you joy of it._

Why did she send him such a message? Confused, he stared at it for the longest moment before shaking his head. Reaching out with a long finger, he deleted the message. It was incomprehensible, why keep it? That left the second message and the datapad nearly slipped from his grasp as a wave of agitation swept through him when he saw it was from the Dalatrass of Magohr, the region in which his family resided. Such a message most certainly boded ill, given his circumstances and he was inclined not to read it. But then, that would be most disrespectful and an insult. Taking a deep breath, he opened the message.

"You alright?" Harris asked gently when Kedar sat immobile. What was the message that engrossed him so much? It went without saying that bad news would be coming in fast for those who fell by the wayside, he knew it often enough and had seen enough happening but never before had he seen the depth of bleakness now reflected in those liquid eyes. "You want to finish that?" he nodded to the bowl that still held some stew.

Shaking his head, Kedar erased the last message. "No," he placed the datapad on the table. "Can we go now?"

"You're sure?" Harris knew what the guy had done but still, he didn't think the Salarian was a murderer or had deliberately set out to hurt people. "You don't want a drink or...?"

"No," Kedar stared at the table.

"Alright," Harris sighed as he stood up. "Let's go."

Most of the off-duty crew had finished their meals and gone off to spend the rest of their leisure time as they saw fit, leaving the wardroom half empty. As they passed by the small bar where a trio was sitting, nursing glasses of whiskey, Kedar halted, eyeing the varied coloured bottles behind the bar.

"Perhaps a drink? he turned to Harris who stared at him in surprise.

"You want a alcoholic drink...," Harris queried, not certain Salarians drink alcohol, especially his charge.

"Yes. May I?" Kedar said politely, blinking rapidly.

"Ok, any particular poison?" Seeing the Salarian's confusion, Harris explained, "Type of alcohol? We only have human drinks here, are you sure you want one of those?"

"Yes, Salarians can handle it. But perhaps you can choose? I have no idea what you have here," Kedar glanced at the bottles and the galley crewman polishing glasses behind the bar counter.

Scratching his chin, Harris frowned and took a few steps forward. "Well, there's..."

Quick as a flash, the moment the human was away from him, Kedar leapt forward and was over the bar counter. The galley crewman yelped when he was shoved to one side, crashing into the bar counter. The impact propelled the pyramid of cleaned glasses he had carefully stacked on the counter into the air. As the rest stared in stun amazement, Kedar grabbed one of the bottles and smashed it.

Too late, Harris realised what he intended "_No_!" He sprang forward, knowing he was not in time and could only watch helplessly as Kedar brought the broken bottle across his neck. Blood sprayed across the bar counter, drenching the humans in gory green.


	53. Chapter 53

**Local Cluster, Earth, Citadel**

Scrubbing his hand through his close cropped hair, Westir tried to encourage his sleepy senses to wakefulness as he walked slowly along the corridor of the technical and engineering division and tried to stifle the numerous yawns that persisted in gaping his mouth. Droplets of tears gathered after a particularly long yaw that threatened to unhinge his lower jaw from his face. It wouldn't do, no, it wouldn't do at all. He cut right at the intersection and slipped into the men's toilet, splashing cold water on his face. As he patted his face dry with a paper towel, he examined it for signs of fatigue on the mirror above the washbasin and fingered the lines around his eyes. Age lines, his old lady would say, with eyes that were forever young.

There was nothing he could do with the bristles on his jaw. That was his fault really, waking up late and forgetting to pack a razor. Still, he didn't look too bad for someone who had spent half the night drinking beer with the holovid he was watching. Tossing the soggy paper towel into the nearby bin, he exited the toilet and headed for the locker rooms a floor below. It was mostly empty, except for three figures in skinsuits lounging and sitting on the benches.

"Lunch is on you, West!" one of them called out when he walked in, without taking her eyes off from the tiny screen of her omni-tool.

"Yeah, yeah," he palmed opened his locker, tossed in his pack before pulling off his clothes. "Try to show a little mercy this time, Tessie," he said over his shoulder as he drew on bodysuit and skinsuit.

"You have only yourself to blame," said Malon, fingers typing busily over the portable console on his lap. "At the rate you invest your credits in beer, I estimate your indulgence could only last another week," he paused to peruse his work, eyelids flicking upwards rapidly.

"Praise be," he said sarcastically, "at least Tessie can't squeeze a freebie out of a dry well." He grabbed his helmet sitting on top of his locker and touched the small old photograph tucked in a corner of the door of the locker before closing it. "Now can we move on? I don't want another black mark from Drake," he stalked out, followed by the silent fourth member of the group, Challa, a batarian, before the others could say another word. Shaking his head, Malon turned off the portable console and put it away in his locker, swiftly loping after Tessie who was already out the door. Catching up to her, he fell into excited discussion over the forum topics on the xtranet they had been delving into.

Ignoring the chatter behind him, Westir headed for the shuttle bay, glad that Challa was not incllined to talk. One would have said that was typical of the taciturn batarians but having Challa on the team now for three years, that notion could be dispelled. Challa talked when it was necessary, frivolous statements was not in his vocabulary which made him more of a reliable colleague than a swinging beer swigger. Which suited Westir very well, less one person to gripe about his night drinking sessions. Tessie and Malon meant well but he could do without their prosaic injunctions every time he showed up cross-eye for work.

There was only one shuttle left in the baffles when they reached the huge shuttle bay, a glaring testament of their tardiness. Keying one of the consoles by the landings bays, Westir brought up the robotic arms as the baffle rack moved out the shuttle to the edge to be grabbed. With smooth precision, the arms placed the shuttle exactly in the middle of the landing pad. As usual, Challa was quick to punch in the code on the panel beside the hatch and first in when the hatch opened. Still chattering, Tessie and Malon strode in leisurely, raising that familiar itch in Westir to boot them in as he followed.

Within the shuttle, two workstations took up most of the space where the cargo compartment would have been. Most of the seats had been stripped out, leaving only one strip of four by the hatch. Leaving the two to set themselves up, Westir headed for the cockpit where Challa was already running pre-flight checks. Hooking his helmet to a peg on the bulkhead above the pilot's seat, he sat down and buckled in, plugged in small earpiece, hands automatically enabling the consoles, eyes already double checking readouts. A glance at Challa who only nodded and he made contact with Citadel Control for clearance.

"Buckle in, you two, we're moving," he muttered into the comlink as he closed the hatches of the shuttle. Outside, a warning claxon sounded as a forcefield sprang up as the shuttle bay doors opened, revealing the black expanse outside. "Yeah," he couldn't help but smile as the edge of a blue white globe was revealed; looking at it every day still the ache in his heart.

Firing the engines, he brought the shuttle clear of the shuttle bay doors before banking towards the coordinates he had set; the central point of the torus. Or rather the southern point of the torus, the junction where the Citadel Tower merged with the ring. Setting the shuttle to a quarter speed, he kept his eye on the traffic. With numerous shuttles and larger crafts running about the docking ring, the chances of a collision was high if any pilot failed to keep a proper lookout. Not that any one in his or her right mind would want to do that. The steep reparations the guilty party would have to fork out would be a killer, no one's pockets were that deep.

That said, the V.I. Incident left many people out in the cold; who were they supposed to point the finger at for the damages? Naturally, whoever was running the Citadel. The Council had assumed a part of the responsibility even if grudgingly but good luck to those who tried to chase down the illusive credits; the amount of bureaucratic red tape they had to wade through generated a ton more complaints than the ones on accountability. One reason he stayed away from the xtranet, every page seemed to be dedicated to this current hot potato. The other was the slew of near bizarre and hysterical hyperbole on the causes of the Incident.

Which was why he and the team was pulled off their customary hull inspection along one the ward arms and assigned to poke and pry around the Citadel Tower. With the beam suddenly shut off, the powers-that-be wanted to be certain there was no structural damage or oddities. What kind of oddities they had in mind, he had no idea but he would rather not get too close to it. Not exactly the kind of thing he could say to the supervisor if he wanted to keep his job, his apartment and everything in it.

"Coming up to the mother lode," he murmured into the comlink as he brought the shuttle parallel to the base of the tower.

"How many bottles did you hit? That was yesterday's ass," came Tessie's drawling rejoinder, "we need the new one and that's ninety meters 'up'."

"You would know about asses, would you?" he returned, annoyed because she was right. Carefully, he manuevered the shuttle further along the tower. "Would that be buns or jerks?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she snickered.

"Behind schedule," Challa put in before Westir could answer. In that, he was right, they were behind by over two hours. They were supposed to start at seven and it was already half of nine. All of it was his fault of course.

Silence fell as Westir enabled the scanning beam once they reached the target area. His job was to keep the shuttle at an even distance from the hull to keep the scanner at effective range while Challa was to keep a lookout for anything that might come their way. The main meat of the assignment fell on Tessie and Malon; checking hull fatigue and integrity, along with a bunch of engineering stuff that wasn't up his alley. Going over every inch of a hull as huge as the Citadel was slow going. Counting two years, six months, the ward arms were only half inspected and repairs were going even slower. It would take another two years for the teams to finish their tasks and perhaps another two for patching to be completed. After which, they would all start at square one again; hull inspection was a neverending undertaking but it would be faster than the current cycle which required more minute and thorough manual examination.

The reason behind it was rather obvious; nobody wanted a gigantic hole in the swirling blue white globe below. Not lest the level of radiation and devastation to the atmosphere, rendering a quarter of the Earth unliveable. Perhaps that was why such a large number of Earth's surviving denizens chose to migrate to the space station, practically taking over one of the lower wards, nicknamed Down Below, the Presidium that no alien felt comfortable venturing in there. So huge the influx that the Council had expressed their concern, leading Alliance Parliament to issue a statement that it was only temporary. He had doubts about that; once ensconced, it would be hard to pry them out again, especially established crime syndicates. But since the Incident, he had heard sentiments were changing. Nobody wanted to die under the hands of a rogue V.I.

Despite official statements to the contrary, nobdy was buying the story that the Incident was just an engineering fault. No, larger stakes were afoot. Thick and furious were the conjectures; some advocating it was conspiracy by the Council to get rid of the humans, some whispering behind closed doors that the Keepers wanted to kill them all, some spreading words of doom that the Reapers were returning. Whatever it was, he was sure there would be an exodus. A pity, he would missed the food, there was no other place he could get real Swedish meatballs unless he got himself dirtside.

"Movement at ten o'clock," said Challa, breaking into his dreamy musings.

On the alert immediately, he looked at the image Challa transferred to his console. "What..?" he muttered in confusion as he magnified the image. "Are those...?"

"Keepers," Challa muttered softly, pushing the enhancement as far as it would go.

"What the hell are they doing out here?" Westir was amazed as he zoomed in. "Are they wearing some kind of suits?"

"What's going on up there?" queried Malon. "You're out of sync, West. I can't get any readings if you don't keep..."

"Never mind that, look at this," Westir transferred the image to Malon's workstation. "Tell me what they're doing?"

Silence from Malon's end for several minutes. "Can you get closer?" he said finally.

"I think they're effecting repairs," came Tessie's voice.

Reaching over to shut off the scanner, Westir gently nudged the shuttle forward. "I'll get close enough for you guys to see what they're up to but I'm going to keep a distance from them."

"Scared, West?" came Tessie's mocking tone.

"Damn right I am," he shot back. "Name me one instance in which you see and hear Keepers going EVA!" When she said nothing, he said dryly, "Yeah."

Fifty meters away from the Keepers, Westir halted the shuttle. They were close enough now to see the group of Keepers walking slowly over the hull. Where they had emerged from, he had no idea but supposed there was an airlock somewhere. His assumption that they were wearing suits were wrong, as far as he could see, they weren't wearing any but there was a sort of nimbus enveloping each Keeper. Shields of some kind to protect them from vacuum? None looked in the direction of the shuttle, he was not sure they were aware at all that there were observers but seemed to be inspecting the hull; their heads were down.

"What do you supposed they're doing the same thing as we are?" he said into the comlink.

"Can you move the shuttle over to the translocating beam port?" said Tessie. "There're more of them congregated over there."

"Right o," he said, cautiously moving the shuttle away, gaining more altitude above the hull to prevent dislodging any of the Keepers as he guided the shuttle over them. "What the hell...," he blinked as the view of the port heaved into sight.

* * *

"They're sealing the translocating beam port?" repeated Tevos as she stared at the holovid, wishing the image could be clearer.

As if reading her thoughts, Melik enhanced the picture that showed a definitive number of Keepers ranged at the location. Helpfully, he highlighted the tiny beams issuing from their forelimbs. "The engineering team that was sent to appraise the tower did not try to get too close for fear they dislodge any Keepers accidentally. The other was that they had no idea how the creatures would react to their proximity but as far as we can discern, they are sealing the port."

"Rendering it inoperable?" Tevos suggested.

"Yes," Melik nodded. "There is more."

"More?" Sparatus said uneasily, eyes fixed on the image.

"Yes," tapping the keys of the console, Melik said as more images of Keeper appeared though at different locations. "These were taken by various teams that were surveying the ward arms. And if I'm correct, they are carrying out their own inspections of the hull and repairing it."

It should be good news but for long minutes, no one said anything. The unexpected development threw every hypothetical belief about the Keepers reeling and the air around the table was one of disquiet and perplexity.

"This implied the Incident was their work," said Tevos almost disbelievingly as various scenarios rippled through her mind. "In the centuries in our tenure of the Citadel, there have never been one recorded piece of evidence to suggest that Keepers are able to traverse outside the Citadel nor have they been seen to amass in such numbers anywhere."

"Perhaps they did carry out hull inspection and repairs time to time but in smaller numbers that escaped notice?" Melik suggested.

"If they did so, then it was part of their routine but closing that port can't have been," pointed out Valern.

"It still may have been,"said Melik. "To them, perhaps it's a vulnerable point that required reinforcing. It is an after all, an ingress."

Flewinne cleared her throat nervously. "We still have to consider the probability they're working towards a target."

"Their own or someone else's?" Sparatus glanced at their anxious faces. "Either way, what can we do about it?"

"Dare we try to secure them?" said Flewinne hopefully.

"I would not go up that road," Executor Kralinx shook his head. "Even if we were able and have the space to detain the whole lot."

"No," agreed Tevos. "When we first found this place, we used everything we knew then to communicate with the Keepers. They were totally unresponsive to any stimuli. At times, they would seem to go into a catatonic phase or shut down when touched."

"Shut down?" Flewinne was not sure she understood. "Are you implying they are machines?"

"I have not been clear, my apologies," Tevos said softly. "They died when we tried to use our abilities to speak to them. The risk of losing an entire workforce that is irreplaceable outweigh the benefits of intercommunication."

"Even if C-Sec successfully corralled them up and kept them confined alive for a short while, I cannot gauranteed the safety of the Citadel," Melik said bluntly. "We don't know a tenth of their tasks, or even understand the full function of the space station. My people and I in reality, are just support staff. We do what we can to keep services running."

"Then increase surveillance, " Tevos put up a hand as Flewinne made to speak. "That is the only thing we can do. Place as many monitoring vids at places where C-Sec do not have eyes, places where they often go, Foundations, reactor cores, anywhere you can think of."

"I would suggest we make further attempts at communication," Flewinne looked at Tevos, "the Asari tried when they first discovered the Citadel. Back then, the Keepers were under Reaper control. But what about now? I understand this issue has been brought up before and there was no consensus on what should be done. Given current circumstances, we should try to find out if they are sentient and their intentions if they are."

Sighing, Sparatus leaned forward. "Whatever we decide, I believe the Keepers have a plan regards the Citadel. It doesn't matter if it's their own or something pre-programmed," he tapped the table with a finger as he looked every Councilor in the eye. "There is one course of action we have to take. We have to evacuate the populace."

"I think most will respond if we issued statements respective of our departments," said Kralinx. "For the last week, there has been a record number of departures. If the trend continues, we will see a twenty percent drop in population."

"How long before the Keepers complete their survey of the entire hull?" asked Tevos.

"I estimate three weeks to a month," Melik shrugged at Tevos's surprise. "They are using devices that seemed more effective than our own."

"Then there is time," said Valern. "I suggest we each make arrangements with our own ..."

A soft buzz interrupted him. With half-raised eyelids, he waited as Tevos accepted the call with an apologetic glance but raised no objections. Council meetings were secluded. Only the advent of an emergency, an urgent or important matter were permitted to disrupt the conference. A single buzz signaled it was the latter.

"Yes?"

"Councilor, Ambassador...Raltania requests an audience with the Council," said her secretary.

Astonishment blanketed the room. Melik frowned; who? He knew most of the ambassadors on the Citadel, old and new and he never heard of a ambassador Raltania.

"One moment," said Tevos before looking at Melik. "Supervisor Melik, I'm going to have to ask you to step out for a while. If you could please wait in the lounge."

"Of course, Councilor," he said, getting to his feet immediately and headed for the door at the other end of the room, knowing he was not supposed to see whoever it was. Tevos waited until he had exited the room before murmuring into the comlink. The entrance of the conference room opened and as an asari walked in, the Councilors got to their feet. They eyed her warily as she approached the table.

"Councilors," the asari bowed her head in greeting as she halted before them. "The Queen wishes to confer."

* * *

**Thessia**

The voice was melodious, flowing perfectly in sync with the music and the dimness of the room, giving it a intimate quiet ambience. Eyes closed, Liara let herself drift with the song, heart and breath in harmony as she centered herself. Sitting opposite her, Aethyta watched her silently, knowing that her off-spring needed this short interval to prepare herself before marching out to battle. At the moment, Telienos was out there, in one of the private consultation rooms, explaining Shepard's condition to her mother, Hannah Shepard. To lay the groundwork, so to speak but all that preparation would be for nil if the older Shepard belonged to the group of unprogressive human.

Of which, the Alliance doctor on the Glasgow could be counted as one. It was fortunate that Captain Dorrin was on the flip side and had chosen to support Liara. If he had not or if Admiral Hackett hadn't thrown his weight behind Liara, Aethyta had no doubt the younger asari would be on the Citadel, wading through a thick sludge of human cynicisms and bigotry. Their ideologies were sadly subpar compared to their much vaunted technological advancement and achievements. It would perhaps take them another few centuries more to be anywhere adequately adjusted to cross-cultural disciplines.

_Not all of them are that hopeless. At least, the ones that counted._

A soft hiss. Her eyes turned to the door to see Telienos framed against it, the bright light from the outer room shining behind her. Crossing over to the couch where she was sitting, Telienos said nothing and waited patiently for Liara to rouse herself out of her meditation. No words was spoken when she did. Almostly dreamily, she stood up and followed Telienos. Aethyta stayed where she was; if she had to wait, she'd rather do it on a comfortable couch than imitate a decorative statuary along the corridor. Besides, staying where she was also restricted the temptation to interfere and she could use the time to mull over a few matters.

Almost in a trance, Liara followed Telienos and automatically wound through the traffic in the outer office and the corridor. It was only when she was standing out the consultation room that she came to a semblance of full consciousness. Squeezing her arm encouragingly, Telienos turned away and returned to her office. Taking a deep breath, Liara palmed the door panel. The room was small, with space enough for a coffee table, a couch and two armchairs. Her gaze went to the woman, dressed in the Alliance uniform, standing at the windows, looking over the gardens a floor below and her breath caught when she saw her profile.

_She looks like Shepard..._

But of course she would. Liara mentally scolded herself, trying to calm down a suddenly racing heart. Then, the bottom seemed to drop out beneath her when the woman turned to face her. The face was exactly like her bondmate's. It took a moment for her to pick out the differences. Older. The hair was ebony, greyish now, not red, neatly braided and pinned. The eyes were brown, not blue, and they were regardng her impassively. As she went nearer, she could pick out the creases around the eyes, the forehead and around the mouth. Trim and fit, there was also the air of accustomed command around her that Liara usually associated with Admiral Hackett. It was in Shepard too though she did not radiate that aura so heavily.

_Is this how my Shepard would look like when she grows older?_

"Admiral Shepard," she said finally to break the lingering silence as each sized the other up; she wondered what the older woman made of her. _She's as tall as Shepard._

"Dr T'Soni," Hannah nodded politely.

"Is there anything you would like me to clarify?" Liara tried to convey an openness to discussion.

"Yes, what did you do to my daughter?"

Shoving aside the streak of coldness that struck her at the accusation, Liara said evenly, "I did nothing that caused her condition..."

"I expected her to forge a credible career for herself before settling down and having children of her own, " interrupted Hannah. "I did not expect her to...hook up with a...foreigner, throw away her prospects and come to live among...strangers."

"Everything that happened, Admiral Shepard, the bond that we forged, are the results of a journey of perils, the blood and pain that we suffered through together ever since she became a Spectre," Liara said harshly, angry with the hurtful statement. "You, who have faced diverse hazards with your compatriots, must surely know of the connection I spoke of. And how such a bond could develop. I did not force her to her choices."

"Can you honestly say that you did not try to influence her with all these...," a curl twisted Hannah's lips, "mind melding?"

"Yes, I have, I have always wondered," admitted Liara angrily. The words seared her lips but she had to say it; it was a misgiving that had often lingered at the back of her mind, something she made sure Shepard would never see. Hannah made to speak but didn't when she continued. "But...after that attack on the Normandy, when she went missing for two years and then returned, I tried to hold back. To let her choose. If we have made a mistake, if she didn't think we belonged together, then that was the best time to break it off but she...chose to stay," she held the other woman's gaze steadily, "yes, I can honestly say I cannot be certain I did not encourage her but I am certain of one fact...I love Shepard. I will lay down my life for her if that is the only way for her to live."

Hannah straightened though her eyes narrowed. "All very well to make such a declaration. What if there's another choice other than this proposed mind melding cure?" she smiled mirthlessly at the clear light of fire in Liara's eyes. "What if, the only way for her to live is to let her go?" she turned away to look at the window as Liara stared at her in shock. "Irregardless of all this talk of getting lost within her mind from her attempts to convince a rogue V.I. on Ilos. What if all this mind melding is the actual cause of her coma? If she was away from...here, she might yet recover without any interference."

"No, you do not understand. Her coma has nothing to do with any rogue...," began Liara, feeling it was time she explained exactly what was ailing Shepard. The dialogue was not going exactly the way she envisioned even though she was expecting an argument, the abruptness and twists were throwing her off.

"Please," Hannah put up a hand impatiently as she turned back, "my daughter's recovery is paramount, no matter the cause of her illness. I asked you again, will you let her go?"

"I will reiterate that her condition has nothing to do with any rogue V.I.," said Liara firmly, refusing to be chased away from her earlier statement. "Though the remedy you are suggesting is impossible, hypothetically if there is such a solution, yes...I will let her go."

"The remedy put forth by the Director is just as ludicrous," returned Hannah blandly though her eyes were cold.

"If the Admiral had a better understanding of Shepard's condition," said Liara sharply, holding on to her patience, "I am willing to listen to any suggestions but since you have no learnings in the medical discipline nor any idea of what she has been through for the last seven years, nor the ones before that, you have no call to make regards her treatment."

Hannah did not quite blanched though her colour went slightly paler. "I am still her mother and how dare you seat yourself in judgment."

"I have seen her memories," gritted Liara. "She had no place she could call home. How could she when she had to uproot and abandoned friends she had just made every two or three years when you received a new assignment or a promotion? When she was alone, when she was in pain when her father died, when she needed you...where were you? All you gave her was a voice in the dark. Nothing she could hang on to in her loneliness...do you know how badly she had wanted to run to you? To have you comfort her? When she had wanted to talk to you...through the years, you offered no such opportunity."

Hannah's eyes did not quite glistened; her control was too iron fisted for that but she looked away from the impassioned, angry glare, lips compressed in a tight line. Liara took a few steps back, realising she had unconsciously enroached into the other woman's space in her zeal to hit out; out of fear that she would go to great lengths to have Shepard removed from Thessia and a desire to force her to abandon any such plans and concede that they had the most ideal plan of treatment.

"But that is why I am here."

Liara blinked at that statement, momentarily disoriented as she was expecting a castigating backlash. "You are?" she said cautiously.

Shaking her head, Hannah took a deep breath, her stiff shoulders relaxing slightly and said haltingly, as if candor was difficult for her. "She was not planned...I never did plan to have any children. Not when I wanted to build a career in the Alliance. I supposed you can call her an accident. I didn't know what to do with her and was only too glad to toss responsibility to Andri. When he died from that engineering accident, I was at a loss. I had no desire to abandon an advancing career to look after a child so I took the other option. It wasn't the right thing to do but I was ambitious," she shrugged. "I had barely turned around when the little girl turned into a young woman, all ready to enlist in the Alliance. I was proud, that she was following in my footsteps...and I tried to encourage her...," she trailed off.

"But you knew it was not enough."

"It was always there, that little imp that whispered daily of my failure to discharge my responsibilities towards her as I should but I could never find the words..," tugging at her collar absently, Hannah leaned against the window in a hauntingly familiar posture. "Every chance that presented itself always slipped through my grasp and I knew the distance between us was growing into a chasm that we might never cross...I didn't even tried hard enough to find her when her ship went down and she went missing...," she faltered.

"But this time, you think you can make a difference."

Hannah flicked an unfathomable glance at her. "I do...I hope."

"Then," Liara approached her slowly, "do you believe that we can help her?"

"I still do not put much credence into this proposal of...mind linking with her to draw her out of the coma," frowned Hannah, for it sounded too much like gibberish to her.

"Would you allow me to show you what mind melding is to us?" Liara offered her hand, palm up. Predictably, the human withdrew suspiciously. "If you truly wish to understand your daughter's condition, let me show you," she implored. "Please, for Shepard's sake."

Half persuaded by the heartfelt plea she could feel, Hannah hesitatingly placed her hand in Liara's. The young Asari did not try to make contact immediately but let several seconds passed by for the human to calm down a little, if she could.

"Try to think of something other than Shepard, perhaps the breakfast you had this morning...concentrate on it," said Liara and waited a moment before saying softly, "Embrace eternity."

The first thing she hit was the human's natural resistance, raised automatically against intrusion. It was fierce and obdurate; Hannah plainly did not trust her. Since her intention was to do a light meld, she did not force past the barrier and instead skimmed the surface, hoping to get some seeping images. The touch of Hannah's mind was vastly different from that of Shepard; a deep orange, green, red aura and a slight acidic bite.

_You had a bread roll, an orange and a cup of coffee._

_What the...{amazement and confusion}...yes, I had those._ [Hannah blinked bemusedly into the young Asari's eyes that had turned disconcertingly black]

_I am only seeing what you are allowing me to see. Without your will and permission, I cannot pass within._

_You can't? {disbelief and a slight slackening of pressure}_

_No. I will show you the true cause behind Shepard's coma._

Without waiting for Hannah's assent, she picked out whatever was necessary to share with her; the conversation between Shepard and Shiala on Feros, all the events in which the Cipher had come into play during the war, the expedition into the Archives on Ilos and the recent attempt to save the researchers, and showed them to her. Feeling her strength draining, Liara held on until she was done before breaking the meld at the end. Not expecting the sudden cutoff, Hannah staggered back. Grimacing, Liara put a hand to a throbbing brow; she had forgotten how it was to meld with a shuttered mind. Mimicking her, Hannah blinked rapidly at the images still passing before her eyes and fell back against the window.

"Are you all right?"

"No...yes...," Hannah stuttered, "give...give me a moment.." _Did what I just saw.. real? Did it really happened that way? What if she's lying...but...  
_

"Here, sit down," Liara took hold of her arm and guided her to the couch, sitting down herself gratefully. "The discomfort will pass. Shepard was initially not used to it either."

Hands to her bowed head, Hannah said nothing and Liara fell silent, knowing the human was sorting out her thoughts. She needed the time too to recuperate and closed her eyes, opening them when Hannah finally stirred after several long minutes. By then, the headache had abated. Her heart lifted when she saw Hannah's softer gaze on her.

"It is still...confounding to me," Hannah admitted. "But I understand why you insisted on bringing her to Thessia. If what you...showed me is true, then there is no physician, human, that is, that could possibly help her."

"Then you will support the treatment?" Liara said eagerly but Hannah held up a hand.

"The solution was to have someone she trusts to...link with her and encouraged her to...awake, right?" she continued when Liara nodded. "All because of her fear of indoctrination, that everything that had happened...isn't real."

"Yes," Liara wondered what point the older woman was coming to.

"Have you considered that it might have the opposite effect?"

"What do you mean?" Liara was not sure she understood. The human was beginning to show signs of support and yet objecting?

"If subconsciously she believed the Reapers are still around, that this reality isn't real, that they are attempting to brainwash her, wouldn't she think the first person they use in their persuasion be the one she trusts the most?" _Isn't that you?_ The statement went unsaid.

Liara stared at her, dumbfounded. The logic was impeccable. Putting a hand to her mouth in dawning horror, she tried to assemble her thoughts thrown into confusion by the discovery. Given her bondmate's fears, why did she automatically assume she would wholeheartedly trust the one closest to her? Why had she only thought of one outcome and not the other? For that matter, why didn't Telienos or Aethyta? Unless...they deliberately left it out? But why? A hand reached out for hers and she found herself looking into sympathetic eyes.

"I believe you...you want to do what is best for my daughter. I felt your...love for her in the memories you shared," a smile lifted Hannah's lips as Liara's colour darkened. "All is not lost. I think I may have the answer."

"You are not going to send her to Earth, are you?' Liara asked haltingly and her hopes raised when Hannah shook her head. Her hands gripped the other woman's tightly. "Then let us go to the Director and see if your idea would work." With further ado, she drew Hannah after her and they left the room.

* * *

**Author note - Have no head for drama so I did a quickie on the Hannah and Liara dialogue.**


	54. Chapter 54

**Words of note**

**inupe - meeting house**

**shartes've'le - live and renew with the blessings of the Wane**

**TOD - time of death**

* * *

**Sur'Kesh, Brenon, Orieste**

In the rays of the sun, it glistened white, throwing off tiny undulating sparkles echoed by thousands of others hurtling through the air at the same time. It began to expand, branching out before some of the shimmer dulled slightly. Down, down it fell, softening and wilting slightly when its movement abruptly halted against a hard surface. It shattered into thousands of tiny pieces, a brief flower of explosive beauty before the remnants resumed the interrupted journey to end in a slushy mass.

A gloved hand up come to swipe at the streak of ice crystals that covered the helmet visor before dropping back to hold the the barrel of the assault rifle. The beacon icon thrown up on Tolus's visor blinked red on the compass. Even as he kept an eye on it, he surveyed the craggy landscape around him carefully as he trudged through the snow. In a file behind him, five more followed the trail he set. Dressed all in white, they blended in perfectly with the surroundings. None made an effort to talk.

The beacon icon grew larger and a soft blip sounded. Looking around, he noted that they were near the edge of the overhang of the mountain plateau and turned to motion to the others to stop before scrutinizing the ground. The gleam of metal a meter away caught his eye. As he went near it, he saw it was a transmitting wand of the relay probe. Gesturing to the waiting group to come forward, he pointed to the two soldiers to take up defense positions. The sniper made his way to a ledge north-east, scraped a shallow hollow in the snow and laid himself down in it, making sure he had a wide field of sight. The other did the same in the west.

Tolus set himself a distance away from the researchers and kept one eye on them as they gathered around the probe. The youngest, Nabro, set down the pack he had been carrying as his older colleagues, Anor and Reysi, unstrapped the small shovels clipped to their belts and bent down to dig away the snow. The top layer was removed easily but the bottom was hardpacked that required careful excavating. When most of the snow was cleared away, they found themselves looking at a probe encased in ice. A blue light glowed brightly on the access panel through the ice; the probe was active.

Rummaging in the pack, Nabro grabbed the heating rods, programmed the settings while the snow was cleared away before handing them over once the entire length of the probe was revealed. Once activated, sharp ends protruded from one end of the rods and began to glow red hot. Swiftly and precisely, the two researchers made several stabs at the block of ice, making several punctures along the body of the probe. The ice began to crack, white lines striating within. At that, the heating rods were turned off and the breaking ice was quickly knocked away before any of it could melt. From the pack came a portable console that Anor placed on top of the probe, sitting down to work more comfortably.

"Clear signal," he said as he typed in a series of commands to link in with the probe. "Systems are sound, time stamp of operating failure correspond with the last set of signals received six days ago, prior to the blizzard."

"Data cache?" said Reysi as he plucked a datapod from one of the pouches around his belt and held it out.

"Intact. Surveillance data had continued to accrue a day after signal failure to base and then ceased when temperatures fell," taking the datapod from Reysi, Anor plugged it into the probe.

"Call up the last feed," said Reysi as information began to flow.

Tapping carefully, the thick gloves made movement over the keys it a little awkward, Anor glanced through the data as it sprang up. "Everything looks nominal," he called up another column. "Audio devices within appeared to have failed. Eyes too. Minimal heat radiation within the building, they could be trying to conserve fuel. Movements were registered for several minutes during the blizzard. No air traffic," he added, though that was a extraneous statement in other circumstances; no one in his right mind would be roaming around in a snow storm. As it was, the group of people they were observing were hardly normal.

"Let's take a look," Reysi brought up his omni-tool. Better to use it to link in to the console than to try looking over Anor's shoulder, he was more likely to whack his colleague's helmet with his own instead. An image of a small complex sprang up. One that he was familiar with after more than two months of surveillance. It was one of several intact structures in a small ancient outlying town outside the city of Brenon that had been overtaken by Reaper indoctrinated turncoats during the war.

Although the Reapers did not advance into the Pranas System, their scouts; indoctrinated spies and saboteurs, had gone on ahead to lay the groundwork for their invasion. Mingling with the influx of refugees, they had infiltrated every major city on Sur'Kesh and then spread outwards, carrying out their insidious programming, bidding their time to strike when the time was right. When the Reapers had fallen instead of arriving, what happened after was inevitable. They struck back. Mines and bombs which had been laid secretly were set off, destroying vital civilian and military infrastructures.

Subversive subroutines that had laid dormant in V.I. controlled systems were kicked into drive, wreaking planet-wide havoc and bringing most systems to a standstill. Worst of all, assassination attempts had been made at several Dalatrasses within the Salarian Union and prominent commanders in STG, killing the most number of leaders within a day. The grimmest and blackest notation in history to date. As if that was not enough, even the hatcheries were targeted. Retaliation would have been swift if the culprits had not been so obscure. Amid rising fears and hysterical calls for wide employment of inquisition, came the means of corralling the TI who threw themselves single-mindedly into taking down as many of their foes with them as possible when they realised that they could no longer hide among the masses.

Those who had been in the rural zones had either congregated, fortifying small towns they had taken over or took to the lush forests. The latter had put up the fiercest fight and were the most difficult to eliminate. Accordingly, STG forces had concentrated on them to prevent long term entrenchment, cutting off and bypassing enemy towns which were taken down more slowly and methodically. Even so, the TI had continued to pose an ominous threat to hatcheries with a series of suicide bombing runs that were mostly snuffed out before the perpetrators got to their target. A few, unfortunately, managed to attain their goal.

Irregardless, Sur'kesh had far less problems to deal with than the other Allied worlds. No Reaper corpses to dispose off and after two years, there were only pockets of TI left on the planet. When word came of the signal scrambler, the campaign to destroy all TI had been altered slightly. The town they were now looking at had been a TI stronghold. One of the few to actually have a Reaper indoctrination mechanisim that the TI had managed to bring in. The TI had withdrawn from the town due to the sustained onslaught by STG and then it had then deliberately left untouched when the Reaper device was found. Whether the withdrawal had been a ruse to draw unsuspecting victims was moot but STG thought to turn the tables on the TI instead.

Monitoring spy-eyes were planted before STG left to pursue other TI forces in the surrounding areas. In the interim, the TI had double-backed and set up base which was exactly what STG and the teams of researchers had been hoping for. For two months, they had observed TI activities, taking note of any atypical behaviour. It had been difficult to not interfere when the TI had returned with prisoners. As such, Reysi and the others made no mention of them in their daily discussions but concentrated instead on new developments, hoping for signs that the Prothean scrambler device was working.

"Bodies," Reysi noted with surprise, the snow covered mounds that lay outside the complex which had originally functioned as the inupe of the town.

"Prisoners?" wondered Anor and then corrected himself, "but that is unlikely. Why kill prisoners and dispose of them in such a manner?"

"Might they be running out of supplies?" offered Nabro, peering over Anor's shoulder. "There was a blizzard days ago," he added, "perhaps it's more convenient this way."

"Very inconvenient if they had any intentions to stay hidden," snorted Reysi. "Note that the bodies do not lay in a pattern that correspond with disposal..."

"No," agreed Anor, "I would suggest that they came out by themselves and then died. The question is, of what?"

"Part of it has to be the cold...," Reysi tried to enhance the image. "Is there any eye close to the bodies?"

"Here, at twenty meters," Anor put up the new image, "not that it helps," he said in disappointment for too much snow covered the corpse. All that could be seen were part of a leg.

"We'll just have to call in a retrieval drone," Reysi's tone echoed his colleague's sentiment. "I count twelve bodies..."

"A drone takes too long," objected Nabro, "let me go down there and take a look. Think about it," he continued when the other two turned to look at him. "It will take at least several hours to get back to base and another several to get a drone here."

"What is your point, other than offering yourself up as a prisoner?" said Reysi with some curiosity; he didn't think the younger Salarian was that suicidal.

"The bodies might be gone by then," said Nabro, knowing he was right. "We'll never know if they died of natural or deliberate causes," he paused for a moment before making his next point. "The best examination is often hands-on," he said persuasively, "we can have accurate and new data today than having to work with vague intermediate scannings tomorrow. Consider," he added quickly before either could speak. "The blizzard ended three days ago, why leave the bodies as they are?"

"For a myriad of reasons," Reysi jerked a shoulder in a shrug, "but you are correct, they should have removed the bodies by now."

"You do realise by going down there, the exposure to the signal is significantly stronger?" warned Anor.

"It will not be long and indoctrination is not instantaneous," Nabro thought the reminder immaterial at best but appreciated the thought behind it. "There is a path nearby that will take me down to the town in half an hour. I can be back within two to three hours."

"That is, if captain Tolus is agreeable to the trip," Reysi looked to the STG soldier who had been listening quietly.

The young researcher's argument was valid in Tolus's point of view. However, the risks were just as great. For all they knew, those bodies could have been deliberately left there as bait or a false trail. In which case, leaving them there would not tip any changes on either side for the moment. But if those bodies were incidental, then vital information could be lost if they delayed. A situation he was very well acquainted with. Looking at the images relayed to his omni-tool, he was inclined to deny the request, but based on what the researchers were saying about the scanned readings within the complex, his gut instincts was saying something else.

"I'll send one of the snipers down with you," he spoke briefly into his comlink as Nabro immediately checked his equipment, "he'll station himself outside the town though. You're on your own in there," he waited to see if Nabro would change his mind but the young Salarian continued with his preparations. If he was that determined, then there wasn't much to be said except to dispense orders to the soldier who came trudging up, he made sure to turn away to speak softly.

After checking his pistol, Nabro indicated he was ready and stepped out swiftly with the sniper, almost quivering with eagerness. They followed the edge of the plateau, gradually merging with the white snowscape as they moved further and further away. Behind them, Anor removed the datapod once the download was completed and returned it to Reysi before quickly setting in new detection perimeters to the eyes. If there was any suspicious movement, an alarm would be sent immediately to the two making their way down to the town. Not much help if the TI were already training weapons or waiting for them.

From their vantage point, they could not see the pair so Anor searched for the spy-eye that was trained on the approximate entry point, enlarging that image. Nothing more was said as they waited and kept close watch for any signs of suspicious activity. Off to one side, Tolus listened as the sniper updated their progress, half his attention focused on the terrain around the small group and looked down at his omni-tool when they reached the wide open breech in the old defense stone wall of the town. Cloaked, the two were reassuringly invisible to the spy-eye pickup but clearly defined on the sensors.

Leaving Nabro peering past the broken wall, the sniper carefully climbed up the broken stones; nicely tumbled up stair-like, to the top. Taking deep breaths to settle his nerves, Nabro stepped cautiously out once the sniper had settled down at his chosen spot, hoping the soldier wouldn't see the pistol trembling in his hand. The closest corpse was twenty meters away, a short distance. It felt like a long treacherous stretch to him for he felt as if eyes were trained on him; which of course there were but he also imagined fingers tightening on triggers. The TI wouldn't kill him of course, but he didn't relish the thought of injuries. Despite knowing it was pointless, he tried to step lightly. Plainly ridiculous since the snow was pristine, evidence that no one had traversed the area, and his footprints showed up starkly.

Trying not to breathe too harshly when he arrived at the body without incident, he crouched down and swept the snow away. To his relief, the body of the human man was not encased in ice. Putting away his pistol, he briskly cleared away all the snow, blinked when he saw that the human was half-dressed and curled up, and enabled his omni-tool.

"No mask, no helmet," he murmured, knowing the others were listening in. "It's possible he ran out without one. Slight abrasions, contusions on the face. Self inflicted injuries or otherwise, unable to determine. Skin colour is blue," he bent over to check the arm and hand nearest to him. "Bruises on arm, broken skin and nails," he looked at the readings from the omni-tool. "Scan indicates that he died from hypothermia, no other physical anomaly, brain atrophy is in the latter stages. Death occurred two days ago." Taking a probe from a pouch at his belt, he inserted it into the body and removed tissues for later analyses. Labeling it carefully, he tucked it away in the pouch.

Standing up, he made his way to the next body which brought him nearer to the meeting house entrance. After a glance around, he cleared away the snow. The body was that of a salarian and it was obvious how he died. "Same as the other, no helmet," he crouched down, "stab wounds to throat and torso. Indicative of violence," he bent closer to examine the green stained snow under the body. "From the amount of blood, the injuries were inflicted right where he died," he turned over the left hand; metal gleam. "Serrated blade, self-inflicted? No physical wounds or anomalies, brain atrophy in latter stages, TOD is the same as the other," he took another tissue segment with another probe.

Prudently avoiding the entrance, he examined the other ten corpses and collected tissue samples from them. All of them were without headgear and all had varying injuries. It was as if the same craze to run out into the blizzard, he was sure that was when they died, and commit suicide had struck them at the same time. As he stood up after examining the last body, he eyed the entrance. The doors were half-opened and there was no sigh of movement at all in the duration of his trudging around. If there was anyone at the entrance, the sounds of his footsteps in the snow would have alerted them. There should have been some response.

"You're done. Return to the beacon," said Tulos, watching him through his helmet visor magnifier. His eyes crinkled slightly when Nabro hesitated.

"I think...," came his uncertain reply, "perhaps the scrambler has succeeded. They did not die from fighting others..."

"That has to be confirmed," said Reysi, wondering if Nabro was going to do something foolish. "You have done the physical examination, taken scans and samples. That is enough."

"I'd like to take a look inside..."

"Negative," Tulos said sharply, "return to the beacon at once."

"This is a chance to confirm...," Nabro took a step towards the entrance.

"Your next step is your last," warned Tulos.

"What?" Nabro said in confusion.

"You know too much, doctor, and I cannot risk having that information in the wrong hands," Tulos said coldly. "Turn around and return to the soldier at the wall or he will shoot you."

Disbelieving silence. Anor sighed and shook his head; the foolishness of the young. Nabro was good in his field but still wet around the gills, at times making redundant observations and statements that everyone kindly ignored. He would learn and advance quickly enough, if he obeyed Tulos. Otherwise, his journey would end right there. Tension hung in the air as they waited for Nabro's next action.

"He's returning," Tulos glanced at the other two who remained silent. "Be ready to move out."

* * *

**Thessia**

The first thing that came to her was the feeling of warm comforting sleepiness and she basked in it happily, reluctant to move about. Sensations began to filter in; softness beneath her head, smooth covers around her. In bed, of course. Soft strains of music, with lyrics that sounded strange to her ears until she identified it as Asari. There was something else too, a familiar scent mixed with something like pine and her hand being held. She opened her eyes to a cream coloured textured ceiling.

Blinking away the gritty feel of her eyes; how long had she been asleep?, she lifted her head slightly. Crimson gold drapes bellowed lightly in the cool breeze sweeping in from the opened windows through which branches of amber leaves swayed. Just at that moment, an indigo chameleon-like lizard sprang into view to snapped on a tiny insect she couldn't see. Its colour shifted into amber briefly before it floated down out of sight to the ground below. Such lizards could not really jump more than a foot and usually deployed their tiny natural biotic abilities to enhance the skill during hunting or escaping from predators.

That brief glimpse confirmed the thought that she was on Thessia but where? Looking at where her hand was held, her heart melted at the sight of a sleeping Liara. But why did she look so tired? Carefully, she sat up and glanced down at herself. Hospital attire. But why? She frowned, struggling to remember. Wasn't she with Aria on Omega? No, that wasn't it. It was something else. Ilos. She was on Ilos, talking to Vigil. No, she was not talking to the Prothean V.I. She grimaced at the memory and the expelled breath that escaped her mouth was so sour that she nearly gagged. How terrible, she hadn't brushed her teeth for how long?

Slowly, she extricated her hand from Liara's grasp, flipped back the blankets and shifted over to the edge of the bed. The cold surface of the floor beneath her feet brought a shivering gasp and she gingerly stood up, bracing herself against the headboard. After a glance around, she made her way over to the door nearest the bed, certain it was the toilet. Step by step, with limbs and muscles that felt creaky and strange. A peep inside; it was a bathroom, and she stepped more confidently in.

_If Liara look tired, I definitely look like a sad sack._

Rubbing her eyes as she stared at herself in the wall mirror above the washbasin, she searched for a toothbrush and toothpaste in the wall cabinet. Liara would have brought toiletries, she was certain. Otherwise, she would have to settle for rinsing for the moment. Ah voila! Her eyes lit up when she spied the items. Feeling better after a good scrub, she stripped off the hospital garb and stepped under the shower. The hot water was bliss and it was too bad there was no tub in which she could soak in. She wasn't sure what had happened after she lost consciousness but it felt like she had been cocooned in bed for a long time. A good long dip in water was the thing to get revitalised.

When fingers threatened to turn into a prune, she turned off the shower and realised there was no fresh clothing. Grabbing a towel from the towel rack, she wrapped it around herself and made for the door. If there were toiletries, there should be clothing. Liara wouldn't have forgotten. Wet footprints trailed after her in the misty bathroom as she headed for the room. Steam bellowed out after her through the opened door and she sneezed in the cooler air. When her eyes cleared, she could only gap in astonishment.

" ..mom?" she stuttered, staring at the woman standing at the bed, beside a sleeping Liara. "What...how?" she stumbled about, caught between the desire to throw questions and the automatic response that was beginning to kick into gear. She restrained the urge to salute, not difficult to do since she was in a towel. Water began to pool around her feet as she struggled to come up with a suitable response to her mother's presence, who had so far, remained silent. A stirring at the bed drew her attention and faint panic began to set in; what would her mother say to Liara?

Alarm leapt to Liara's eyes when she saw the empty bed. Pushing herself up quickly, she bumped against someone beside, glanced at Hannah and words died away when she followed the human's gaze. A relief giggle began to form when she took in her bondmate's discomfiture but she forced it down and hurriedly stood up.

"You are awake," she said, "and just in time too for the Wane festivities. You will be joining us, of course?" this to Hannah.

Clearing her throat, Hannah nodded. "Yes, I'll just wait outside while you get dressed," she said, visibly suppressing some emotion Shepard couldn't fathom and left.

While Shepard stood staring dumbfounded after the retreating woman, Liara grabbed a towel and the clothes she had brought from the drawer of the small wardrobe beside the bed.

"You are going to catch a chill, standing there," she went to her bondmate and pulled her unresistingly to the bed before running the towel through her wet hair.

Still in shock, Shepard meekly submitted to Liara's ministrations. "What...what is she doing here?"

"She came here to see you. Right now, I just want you to not think about anything else but of the festivities we are going to partake in...," brushing back the partially dry hair, Liara stared into Shepard's eyes. "I never thought...," she pulled her in a tight hug.

"What?" Shepard returned the pressure, confused to feel her bondmate trembling. "Liara, what happened on Ilos?"

_Telienos said you would forget it temporarily. {anxious relief}_

_I remember talking to Vigil and then...that ancient entity. Nothing after that. {puzzlement}_

_Much as I would like to know about this entity, leave it for another day. Director's orders._

_What is it you're not telling me?_

_All I can tell you now is that you have been unconscious for two weeks._

_What?! {shock, amazement} How'd that happen?_

_Please, it had been a difficult time...Telienos said it is better that the matter be left alone for a few days after you awaken. Everything will be discussed later. I promised._

"Right now," Liara said, pulling away slightly, smiling when she saw the dissatisfied frown on Shepard's brow. "Get dressed and we will go to the festival plazas. There will be food and drinks," she said persuasively when the frown did not go away. "Music..dancing," she rested her forehead against Shepard's. Oh, the joy of feeling her mind again. Vibrant and warm. "I really miss you."

From the flow of emotions, Shepard could taste the the residues of the distress that Liara had been enduring. "It's that bad?" she muttered. "I'm sorry, love."

"Whatever are you sorry for?" chided Liara. "I am just glad you are back."

"Just glad?" teased Shepard.

"Happy. Estatic. Delirious with joy. I could sing..." her next words vanished. Somehow or other, they ended up on the bed, minds and bodies hungrily reaching for each other. "I do not think this a good idea," Liara gasped when she was able to speak, fingers digging into Shepard's shoulders. "Your mother is waiting for us."

The reminder was as effective as a splash of ice cold water. "Damn," Shepard ceased her movements and pushed herself up to stare down at Liara who giggled at her sad expression. "I guess we can't keep her waiting huh," her tone suggested she wouldn't mind doing so.

"No," Liara sat up and pulled the clothes, lying forgotten on the bed, to her. "Here," she watched as Shepard ran the towel one last time through her hair and began to dress.

"This is new," Shepard fastened the long dark navy tunic that had minute gold, red and cyan swirling designs woved into it over the high soft collar undershirt. "And so is yours," she ran her eyes down Liara's tunic, as similar as her own except that it was creamy white with red, black and blue coloured patterns.

"They are specially made for the Wane Festival. Didn't you notice what Hannah was wearing?"

Shepard blinked at Liara's easy use of her mother's name. Not Admiral Shepard. Hannah. What had happened when she was unconscious? "Well...no, I was looking at her face...I mean," she shrugged as she tidy her hair with a comb. "What else other than the uniform would she be wearing?"

"Is that all you see of her? A uniform?" said Liara as she dusted a speck of dust off her bondmate's shoulder

Shepard stared at Liara in astonishment as she made finicky adjustments to her collar. "Is there something else I should see?"

"What is that human saying...," Liara smoothed her hands over Shepard's chest. "One cannot see the wood for the trees?" she paused. "Or is it the other way around?"

"I find it hard to believe that she would...just drop everything and come here because she thought I was in a situation," Shepard crossed her arms. "That's what you're saying, isn't it? That she suddenly found she has a connection to me after all. You can't expect me to believe that, not after all these years."

"Beloved, please..can you just forget the past for a moment. No, please, listen," Liara pleaded softly when Shepard looked away impatiently. "Forget she is your mother, forget that she is an admiral in the Alliance. Pretend that she is someone you have just met. Please?"

"I can't promise anything," Shepard said, a little unhappy that Liara was apparently pitching in Hannah's court but since she asked, she couldn't say no. "I'll try."

Knowing that she could only push so far, Liara smiled and handed over an omni-tool. "Good, then let us proceed. The day is slipping away and you must be hungry."

"Too right," said Shepard, slipping on the omni-tool. "Are we at the medical center?"

"The new recuperation wing by the gardens. The Gallia Rejuv Ward," taking hold of Shepard's hand, Liara pulled her to the door.

Instead of a corridor as Shepard was expecting, they entered a small sitting room. After that little talk about uniforms, she eyed her mother, sitting at one of couches, carefully. And nearly tripped over her own feet when she saw Hannah was wearing a civilian outfit much like her own, except that the tunic and trousers were burgundy in colour with yellow, white and light blue designs. More surprisingly, Aethyta was there as well, dressed in a soft silky yellow-cream robe with an intricately woven long blue scarf around her neck and flowing down her body.

"There you are," exclaimed Aethyta when she saw them, gathering a small pile of folded cloths beside her and getting to her feet. "Here," she pulled one of the cloths, a cream coloured scarf with complex tassels along the edges, and draped it around Shepard's neck. "Shartes've'le," she gave her a warm hug as she returned the greeting, before turning to Liara and doing the same with a red scarf.

"Shartes've'le, Dad," Liara waited expectantly when Hannah stood up.

Not entirely familiar with the Asari language, Hannah tried her best in pronouncing it as best she could as she gave Liara a hug. Shepard froze when Hannah paused before her but did not resist the embrace though her body was held stiffly. "Live and renew with the blessings of the Wane...April."

"Shartes've'le...mom," she said in a stammer, struggling to deal with the unusual situation and couldn't read whatever it was glimmering in Hannah's eyes.

"Come, come," Aethyta said gaily, "time slips away whilst we stand here," she gestured politely towards the exit and waited for Hannah to lead the way. Turning back for a moment, she winked at Liara and Shepard.

Almost in a daze, Shepard followed, Liara's hand in her own. In an attempt to distract herself, Shepard looked around as they walked along the corridor to the parking lot. There was an air of newness to the place, with colourful streamers, flowers and decorations to mark the festival. Although medical personnel were in their uniforms, every one of them sported shorter versions of the scarf with many variations of the tassels. Aromas wafting in the air made her stomach rumble.

_I know. You are hungry. {laughter}_

_Haven't you been feeding me while I was out? {mock outrage}_

_How could I do that if you were out?_

_Trying to be funny are you?_

_I tell you what, you drive. It will get you faster to your food._

Snorting under her breath, Shepard waited for Liara to get into the skycar before settling herself in the driver's seat. Murmurs of conversation drifted from behind as she took manual control. Better to have something to concentrate on than to eavesdrop. Less temptation too to look at the backview mirror. It was hard to believe her mother was there. Really there, talking to Aethyta. Nevertheless, whatever it was that brought Hannah to Tessia, she could deal with it. As long as she didn't look sideways at her and Liara.


	55. Chapter 55

**Thessia**

Knowing how crowded the parking lots would be at the major festivities, Shepard did not head straight for the central great plaza near the amphitheatre. Instead, she called up the local navigation system on the car console to check the number of lots at the smaller plazas at the outskirts. As she drove, she tried to make a decision but the swiftly changing numbers as the program updated every few seconds made it difficult. Guessing she was in a dilemma, Liara touched her arm gently.

_The Apepna Plaza._

_That's fast filling._

_I know but we are very near to it and the variety of restaurants on that stretch outnumber the others. Dad made a reservation at the Cloverleaf for dinner._

_Placing her bet that I would wake up in time for the festival?_

_You can say that. {amused} She just wants us to have something positive to look forward to._

_Point._

With the nearest best exit mere seconds away, Shepard made a snap decision. Adroitly, she slipped the skycar past three adjacent lanes as Liara clapped two hands to her seat, half regretting making the suggestion when they narrowly missed on-rushing vehicles. Used to Shepard's driving, Aethyta merely crossed her arms while Hannah mimicked Liara's petrified posture, eyes wide in disbelief as the vehicle wound down the exit with hair-raising weaving through the traffic. Disaster waited to spring by mere centimeters away.

Blissfully oblivious to the fearful silence and reactions of her passengers, ignoring all the loud alarmed beepings from the other skycars and the warnings from the onboard V.I, Shepard increased speed when she spied the parking lot vacancy ticking down on the console display, overtook all the skycars heading for the same destination to narrowly snag the last lot. Cheerfully, she exited the skycar and left her palm imprint on the datapad the parking attendant held out as the rest tumbled out on shaky legs.

"Are you all right?" she took Liara's arm anxiously when her bondmate swayed slightly against her.

Much as she would like to say something on Shepard's penchant to speed and cut corners when it came to driving, Liara didn't want to spoil the occasion with unfavourable remarks so she smiled and shook her head. "Your hunger must be rubbing off on me," she said.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" interlacing her fingers with Liara's, Shepard nodded towards the crowded plaza where heavy murmurings, laughter and music could be heard. "Come on, let's see what we can find."

They walked away without looking back to see if their respective parent were following. Aethyta waited with tactful silence for Hannah looked rather pale. Obviously, first hand experience in riding in a skycar driven by a speedy daredevil was novel for her. Not surprising since she doubted any of the human's subordinates would take such risks and liberties. And Hannah herself didn't seem like a person with reckless tendencies. At least, on the matter of driving.

Taking a deep breath, Hannah waited a beat for her legs to stop trembling. "That was...unexpected," she took a step forward and strode forward steadily when she didn't wobble.

Aethyta smiled faintly as she fell into step beside her. "But surely there are prolific stories of Shepard's exploits." Behind them, the skycar sank down into the ground, nestling securely within the parking cradle. Her task done, the attendant locked down her workstation and went off to enjoy herself with the festivities for the next few hours.

"I just...don't put much stock in those although...," Hannah trailed off and looked at the couple ahead of them before adding uneasily, "Is there nothing you can tell me about her?"

"To fully explore the depths of one's offspring, it is best realized without outside diversion, that which you already knew," Aethyta hoped the human was not having second thoughts about reaching out to Shepard. If she passed up this chance once more, the gulf between them would widen even more. "Put aside your concerns," she touched Hannah gently on the arm, "and immerse yourself in the festivities. Move with the flow and opportunities will present themselves."

"Well..I...," Hannah looked with slightly wide eyes at the flamboyantly dressed crowd around them. Even the children were dressed beautifully. "I don't think..."

"You think too much," Aethyta interrupted bluntly, deciding to drop the dance of diplomacy. "Hey, I know how it is. You worked your ass off, chasing down that comet in your sky and once you got it, you can't see it for anything else," she shrugged when Hannah stared at her, nonplussed at the sudden outspokeness. "Everything for you, is probably tucked away nice and neat in their places but you have no idea where..," she nodded towards Shepard, "to put her."

"That's...," Hannah felt out of her depth, not liking that the Asari saw that much in her.

"Don't," Aethyta said grimly. "You can't come waltzing in here on the sudden spur of overwhelming guilt. The spilling of spirits is nasty business in careless hands, it leaves behind a deep ugly evil splotch that can never be cleaned up."

Hannah halted. "Refinement seems to be an uncommon trait in this part of the world," she said coldly.

"Only when it comes to protecting our own," Aethyta returned the favour. Two could play at that! "And I do not speak just for my daughter."

"She is a human," Hannah forced down a surge of anger.

"Really? You would put her in so narrow a definition?" Aethyta said scornfully and relented when the human's eyes flashed oddly, knowing the deep turmoil she had been masking ever since she arrived on Thessia would only grow worse under pressure. "Shepard is as much a child of my heart as my daughter. I have desire to see the two of you reconcile. It will lay her innate unhappiness, where you are concerned, to rest. And you would find peace. You have been keeping your fears, your doubts, your guilt too close to you. They will impede you. Put them aside and see her, not as your daughter but as someone who can be your friend."

It seemed for a moment, that the human did not hear what she said but then, the icy facade cracked a little. "It is not that I do not understand. She..," began Hannah and then stopped.

"But you fear she will not reciprocate?" Aethyta shook her head. "I know she has sent you emails on certain occasions through the years," she continued when Hannah winced; recalling her failure to respond to most of them or when she did, it was brief and aloof. "If she did not care, she would not have bothered."

"It could be out of duty, nothing more."

"If you believe that, why are you here?"

A puzzled voice spoke loudly. "Are the both of you all right?" Liara looked at them anxiously, Shepard stood frowning beside her. They had turned back once they realized neither parent was behind them. Only to see them standing in the midst of the moving crowd, exchanging words they could not hear. Knowing that Aethyta had been edgy and impatient with what she perceived as antipathy from Hannah for the past few days, Liara was afraid she would kick up a row with her. That would certainly upset the mediation process between Shepard and her mother.

Discerning her worry, Aethyta flapped her hand languidly. "Oh, you know how it is when elders are catching up. All that farting and pissing, right?" she looked at Hannah whose lips twitched at the pungent statement despite her startled expression.

"A proclivity which I'm afraid I'm not immune to," she said, drawing a look of surprise from Shepard.

"Much as we would love to leave you to it," said Liara archly, "I am afraid our stomachs have little tolerance."

"And are ours any different?" laughed Aethyta; exchanging a look with Hannah before indicating that they should proceed further into the plaza.

Despite the numbers crowding the enormous opened space, they were able to wound their way through. Small and big groups pressed in together as they exchanged greetings, hampering the flow of traffic. Larger still were those that thronged the long tables ranged at the perimeter of the plaza, looking through the hundreds of edible fare that were available. To Hannah's surprise, they did not stop at any of the tables but instead continued on deeper. Aethyta paused to offer her hand which she stared at for a moment before realizing the Asari was merely trying to keep their little group together. The hand was cool and clasped around hers firmly.

Wherever they were heading to, their progress was slow enough for her to have an idea of what was going on in the depths of the plaza. Through gaps in the crowd, glimpses of bands of musicians, dressed colourfully, seated on plush cushions on slightly raised platforms. The noise of the large host drowned out the music but she could feel the throb of drums in the air and the high lilt of a flute now and then when their weaving passage moved them closer for her to hear. At one instance, a flock of amber-hued birds with wings and tails that glistened in the cool light of the day, glided and fluttered over the upturned heads of a large knot of spectators. It seemed to her that they were performing aerial displays.

Further off, she spotted a myriad of floating objects above another crowd. It didn't look like a holo projection but real items that swirled around, attached streamers forming intricate patterns. Just as she decided that perhaps a machine was setting the movements, a body was propelled into view. The long ends of a kerchief whirling around her and biotics flaring, the Asari floated down slowly. Was it a dance? Or some acrobatic performance? She had no idea and was obliged to take her gaze away to pay attention for the next several minutes for they were threading their way though quite a heavy gathering that was moving in rhythm to the song they were singing. Nothing was coming through the translator so she supposed it was a language that was not entered into the official indexes. Perhaps it was a dialect the asari preferred to keep among themselves. Whatever it was, it was enchanting.

It was some time before she realized they had reached their objective; a tall feminine statue in flowing robes that towered over the crowd. A second look revealed it was not an actual statue but a projection. Having read about Asari culture, she could only suppose the image was a representation of the Goddess Athame, which was surprising considering the Asari mainstream religion was pantheistic. But then, she had read too that the Wane Festival was an ancient religious celebration that had been extant for millennia and the asari couldn't very well deny the legacy and leave out the divine being that had guided them, on such an occasion.

Queues were moving beneath the statue, hands reaching out to pluck something from large bowls lined on a table before it. Aethyta murmured softly to her as she released her hand before taking her place behind the moving file. She need not participate but out of curiosity, she followed and reached in to pluck whatever it was in the bowl and examined it when she rejoined the others. Barely longer than her thumb, it looked like a bit of dried herb to her, with a sharp tangy aroma. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched her daughter placed her own sample in Liara's mouth with the young asari doing the same with her share. A glance at Aethyta who had a thoughtful look on her face; evidently tasting the herb. Cautiously, she popped it into her mouth. Bitterness exploded overwhelmingly and she nearly gagged. A hand reached out to hers as she made to spit it out.

"To decline to taste is to disprove yourself," said Aethyta, trying not to chuckle at Hannah's facial contortions though she sympathised; she remembered how it was for her the first time the herb hit her tongue. "Swallow it, quickly," she advised when the human couldn't seem to make up her mind on what to do.

"Heavens," Hannah gasped when she managed to do so, "what is it?!" the lingering taste in her mouth sent a shudder through her and she looked around for something to drink.

"You can't drink yet," said Shepard, restraining her own laughter for Hannah's lips were comically puckered up. "That defeats the entire purpose behind the herb."

Aethyta took pity on the human when she looked a little green. "We'll take a look at the offering tables. This way," she said and headed towards the nearest fringe of the plaza.

Though they reached the tables with relative ease, Hannah felt it was not fast enough. Swallowing distractedly in a vain attempt to wash away the taste, she paid scant attention to her surroundings and nearly snatched away the tiny glass Aethyta offered to her, downing the contents in a gulp. If the herb was bitter, there was little flavour to the drink but that was the least of her concern except that most of the dreadful taste was washed away. A paper towel with some sort of small rolled appetizer was thrust at her and that finally removed all traces of the bitterness. Another roll was offered and she took it, somewhat miffed by the flash of amusement in Shepard's eyes before she turned away.

From the food ladened tables, they roamed around the plaza. The crowds around revelries were too large for them to see much but bare glimpses. Though ill at ease, Hannah gamely joined in the group dances; by now a whirlwind of a few hundred people, at Aethyta's persuasion, keeping to the simplest steps after several failed attempts at the more complex patterns. At least she was on par with the children enthusiastically imitating their elders. The lyrics she knew not at all so she kept her tongue still and let herself be carried along in the rhythm. An hour later, she found herself browsing at craftsmen booths, more than glad to keep her feet still. The wares on display were varied and finely crafted. Several were clearly adornments, others were strange and of no discernible purpose. She looked over at Shepard who was at another booth with Liara before reaching for one of the pendants that had caught her eye. The carved leaves and branches that wound all round the blue gem reminded her of birch and..something else. A faint pang of lost hit her and she replaced the pendant.

With the departure of the sun, they made their way to another part of the plaza. For the first time, Hannah noticed the graceful lengths of what looked like amber coloured leafy vines overhead, glowing brighter as darkness approached. All around her, people seemed lit with a faint nimbus. So too, were the rest of the group when she looked at them and she then realised that the source came from the woven designs on the tunics and scarfs. Intrigued, she examined her own scarf; the tassels were alight. Was it natural or artificial? The smooth surface beneath her feet shone in ivory. A touch on her arm and she met Aethyta's gaze. To her astonishment, the asari's face was subtly aglow as well. Aethyta smiled but beckoned; Hannah had been lagging behind.

It seemed to her everything was shining. Even the buildings along the street they were walking through but in different shades. Not so bright as to hurt the eyes but enough that there wasn't any need for street lamps. Ever since she arrived on Thessia she had seen gardens alight at night but never in such profusion everywhere. It had to be deliberate choice on the asari's part to choose a form of construction material for their buildings that would exude light on this particular day.

When they turned off the street into a large many pillared vine covered building, she presumed it was the Cloverleaf restaurant though there was no marquee at the entrance. After a brief pause at the cleansing bar by the door, they they were shown to their table at the top floor. To her surprise , there was no roof. They were dining alfresco? Curious, she looked over the balustrade as the others seated themselves at the low round table. Ceilings were partial on every floor, leaving most of the areas opened to the air. She could see all the way to the ground floor, from the centre of which rose a fountain with several streams flowing from it. From the looks of it, the restaurant was filled from top to bottom. Music and the smell of flower blossoms wafted faintly in the cool air.

Bemused, she took her seat. Lower than she was accustomed to; there were no legs on the couch though there were armrests and cushions. As if that was a signal, a large platter with an attractive array of mouthwatering food was laid on the table by two servitors. Two large flasks and small glasses along with crockery and cutlery that were swiftly set out before they retreated. She had barely time to take it all on when Shepard was filling both her own and Liara's plates. After a glance at her; she was trying to discern the cuisine, Shepard did the same for her and Aethyta.

Frowning, she pointed to a cluster of steaming finger-length shells that reminded her of conch seashells . "What are these?"

"They're similar to our escargot. Here," Shepard reached for the strange looking utensil that had a hooked end. "Hold the shell in the tongs. See this little indentation? That's the best place to slip in the fork...like this," she demonstrated and a piece of apricot-coloured flesh slipped out.

Recoiling a little when Shepard held it out to her, Hannah was not inclined to eat it; molluscs had never been on her menu. It hovered on her tongue to refuse it but a gentle nudge in the side from her right halted the words. She took the fork gingerly. The flesh was firm, yet tender and faintly sweet with a aftertaste that she could not place though it was pleasant.

"Great, right?" Shepard grinned at her expression. "Now those," she pointed to the dark slices on the plate, "are fish, the roasted meat is akin to venison. Those are vegetables of course. Hope you like spice, they can be somewhat hot. And these are similar to flatbread," she picked up a small round flat piece from a stack on the platter. Tearing off a small piece, she dipped it into one the small bowls beside her plate. "Thanks, love," this to Liara who offered her a mollusc she had removed from its shell. The endearment was jarring to Hannah's ear. Forcing her eyes to her plate, she focused on the rest of the molluscs.

With some awkward fumbling and another demonstration from Aethyta, Hannah got the hang of removing the flesh. She was relieved when she finished the last of the molluscs, she didn't much like fussing over meals. The rest of the food was excellently cooked though the taste was unexpected. Unlike the fine meals she had over the last two weeks at the T'Soni estate, prepared by the housekeeper, the flavour was implied. Was it deliberate? She thought over the rolled appetizers and the drink she had earlier at the plaza, after that terrible tasting herb, and realised they were just as suggestive. It was intended to be that way, she was certain.

She sipped from her glass of water. With the food gone, her eyes inevitably flicked for the umpteenth time to the couple opposite her. With dinner done, they had leaned back on the couch and was snuggled so closely she doubted anything could separate them. They didn't seem to care anyone could be looking at them as they sat there, arms around each other, looking up at the silvery aurora in the night sky. Neither was talking but she had the strangest feeling that they were; their faces were animated. More of that mind melding? An inaudible cough drew her attention away.

"We are creatures of comforts. If we could sit, we would rather lie down," Aethyta shoved a cushion behind her and made herself more comfortable. Hannah shivered as a cool breeze wandered by. "So, what do you think of the revels?"

"They're fascinating," said Hannah. "They are reminiscent to carnivals I went to as a child, back on Earth, but much more exceptional."

"When was the last time you attend one of those? It must have been years."

"How did you..."

"You have that...forlorn hungry air about you," Aethyta said softly. "And though you know nothing of the dance and song...you enjoyed it."

"You have not been poking at my mind, have you?" Hannah said lightly even as suspicion flared.

"Tsk...," Aethyta shook her head. "Humans," she smiled when Hannah visibly bristled. "You have to understand that the touching of minds is strictly regulated. To take without permission is a great offense. I'm not saying there are no such crimes, there are and these mostly involved those who are criminally inclined or mentally ill. On the personal level, most of us value our privacy and our own safety too much to randomly delve into strange terrains. A touch is just a touch."

"I apologise," she said uncomfortably and then added, "I supposed I was...clearly readable."

"That is unusual, yes? Have you never taken some time away for yourself?"

"I...," Hannah stared at her glass. "I don't remember the last time I took leave."

"Clearly too long. You know you have a stick up your ass," Aethyta snorted when Hannah's gaze snapped back to her. "Wound up so tight, I didn't think you were going to untangle yourself."

"The thought never crossed my mind."

"Like I said, the comet is all you see in your sky. So what're you going to do now you've taken the first step."

"Do I have to take a second?"

"I don't take you for a fool, so why are you trying to be one?"

"I have a different view."

"Deny yourself and you may end up dry as a husk," said Aethyta. "Whatever had driven you before, whatever is holding you up now, is not enough."

"Not enough for what?" Hannah scoffed and drew back in startlement when Aethyta pressed so closely that her scent was strong around her.

"To face each day with peace. To know there is a ready hand, a ready heart to catch you whenever you fall. To share moments that which you treasure."

"That is ridiculous...," began Hannah, annoyed at what the Asari was implying.

"Then perhaps you ought to look upon _them_ with less a jaundiced eye and less hunger at those who breathe freely," pulling back, Aethyta shifted on her cushion, stretching her legs to one side, clear of the table. "I don't doubt you are a very capable leader in the Alliance but does it really fill all corners of yourself?"

Flushing a little, Hannah said firmly, "I come here to mend the bridge between my daughter and myself, nothing else."

Noting the stubborn line on her jaw, Aethyta knew she wasn't going to relent from her stance, no matter what she said. At least, not for the moment. She had prodded the human as far as she was inclined to. Time enough for her to think about it. If she was enlightened, she would do something to step out of the cage she had enclosed herself in for years. If not, well, there was nothing else she could do. The reconciliation process might yet be a success despite her obstinacy to see beyond the boundary she had drawn. Who knew Shepard couldn't persuade her mother?

* * *

**T'Soni Estate**

They were having their gathering at the hall when the security V.I. detected the approaching skycar. With no visitors scheduled to visit, a message was sent to Effia who immediately despatch everyone back to their posts. Brushing down her robes, she went to the portico to wait. Presently, another message lit up on her omni-tool, easing her tension. As it was, when the visitor exited the skycar, she was ready.

"Shartes've'le, Director."

"Shartes've'le, Yilese," Telienos returned the greeting. "I ask indulgence for this sudden call but I seek counsel with the Prothean, Javik."

"You are ever welcome, Director," Effia said respectfully. "He is in the Garden Room. This way," she paused for a moment when Telienos did not move. It was then she noticed the older Asari's eyes seemed glazed. Then, she suddenly smiled and nodded for her to continue.

Through the hall they went, Telienos noting the covered dishes at the tables set around the streams, and through a long corridor that led to the back. The doors to the garden room were opened and she could see a white robe figure seated beside the fountain. A low exchange with Effia and the other withdrew. There wasn't any need to announce Telienos, she knew the Prothean had seen them though he did not look up from the datapad he was reading.

A tiny shiver ran up Telienos's spine as she walked towards him; memory of how he had struck past her barrier flashed unbidden to her mind. An overwhelming urge to turn around and run out of the room rose up and she had to force herself to continue forward. "Javik."

"You have questions," he didn't look up. Somehow, and the fact that he wasn't wearing his armor, eased much of her apprehension.

"I seek answers." Why was her heart racing?

"I am not an Avatar of Memory but if I can provide, I will."

There were no other chairs about; he was sitting on a stool, so she perched nervously at the rim of the fountain. "There have been no Touch Sensitives for almost a millennia. The talent is so rare, we could not hope to map the genome..."

"You want to know if we have deliberately created this particular genetic strain among the Asari," he interrupted, finally looking up at her. "The probability is high as your species have the potential to develop into viable military support troops. One of the best shock troops by our calculations. With biotics and mind melding an intrinsic talent, the next step is obvious."

She felt a chill at his factual affirmation. "Then, are you aware of those among us we called Ardat-Yakshi?"

"Demon of the Night Winds," Javik said musingly. "A fascinating term when their basic instinct is to consume. If you are asking if they are the results of our meddling...it is also possible."

Her breath caught and her eyes widened in horror despite her preparations for this interview. "Deliberate?" she whispered.

"Consider, we turned the rachni, a peaceful gentle race, into a formidable force that had few challengers to withstand their assault. The tools were there for us to shape," he set down the datapad. "The asari were not the first or the last species we have uplifted but you were one of the few to have survived."

"Were there nothing else planned for us, other than to be used militarily?"

"You were one of several failsafes we have prepared should we fall," his eyes bore into hers. "The fight would have been yours to carry on."

He had evaded the question and the chill within her deepened. "What would have happened if the Protheans had succeeded in defeating the Reapers. What would our place be then, in the Empire?"

"You already know the answer, why do you wish to give yourself pain?" he dipped his hands in the water and fell silent for moment. "The Protheans would remain ascendent," he said softly. "We would see to that," he looked up. "What is it you seek?"

Looking away, she ran her hand along the surface of the water, noticing that she was trembling. Quickly, she clasped her hands on her lap. "Only to consider the next step my people should take."

"Something has happened that you do not like, uncertain, because it points the way?" he said shrewdly.

"Yes...no..," she frowned and closed her eyes. "One of our maidens had undergone an unnatural change. Her biotics...are powerful, unusual and dangerous."

"Unnatural...as in Reaper enhancements."

"Yes. There is contention on what should be done."

"Naturally. Are you asking me on what the Asari ought to do?" he asked curiously. "Or whether you should meddle, find the means behind the augmentation to safely produce the next phase of Asari development? Or whether..," he stood up and leaned towards her, "she should be wiped from existence before she becomes common knowledge or even introduce a mutant strain into the genetic pool?"

"What would you do?" she tried not to fall back into the fountain, her fingers a death grip on the rim of the fountain.

"How curious," he turned away, picking up the datapad. "Even knowing the disposition of my own kind towards your species, you still come to me to point the way," his fingers tapped at the keys. "The guidance that which you sought is already provided," he glanced at her. "Your last Avatar left behind a legacy before she died, have you forgotten?"

"She said to create new paths..," she began tremulously. "No...she did not," she corrected and then frowned at her own confusion.

"You are no youngling so why are you behaving like one?" he said brusquely. "I need not tell you how to interpret her words. Words mean nothing and everything...," he came to an abrupt halt at the fear in her eyes. It was strangely familiar. Where had he seen it? "What are you afraid of? You came to...ah..no..what have I done?" he muttered as realisation struck. He tossed the datapad aside. "Your fear...it is my doing."

"What? No," she got to her feet and retreated as he stretched a hand to her.

"I was the Avatar of Vengence. I was trained to attack, to take and to leave fear behind that our enemies would not be able to retaliate. That day, you asked me to show you what I can do..I did. In so doing, I left an imprint I should not have. Let me take it off you."

"No..," Telienos stumbled backwards, eyes darting around. There were no obstacles to prevent her from running out and yet, she was too petrified to try.

"Fiaria Telienos." Her gaze snapped back to his as if her name was a command. "Take my hand," he said gently.

"No," she shook her head.

"Part of you is fighting the compulsion. Take my hand...let me undo it," he stayed where he was, hand outstretched towards her. "You will never be yourself if you run away now."

Visibly shaking, Telienos stared at his hand. Hands clenching fiercely at her side, she forced herself forward as her mind whirled in conflict. The fragile calm she had achieved through hours of meditation, shattered. It took considerable effort for her to reach out and then she gasped in terror when she touched his hand. Everything vanished around them.

_Peace. I will not harm you. Breathe as you would during reflection...yes..._

_What did you leave behind? {fear, curiosity}_

_The injunction to obey and to fear. You came to me because you unconsciously seek a command from the one who overpowered your barriers._

_Are you saying I had no self will?_

_You have limited control. That is the purpose behind my training. Even as we take, we ensured our enemies would end as our thralls. ... how do you feel?_

_{deep breath} Better. The...weight is gone._

_I apologise for the anguish I have caused._

_No. I can see you never intended to hurt me._

_I have taken more than I should. Without your will._

_It is forgiven. {pause} I would ask for something in return._

_Which is?_

_Would you share your pain?_

_You would ask that? {amazement}_

_I am what I am. You are one, long lost in the flow of time and even now, you are still adrift. I would anchor you...if you are willing._

_And you are curious. But you are right...are you certain this is what you wish?_

_Show me._

* * *

**Author note - Apologies, another cuckoo chapter. It was hanging about all last week because I was trying to jam it into corners it wouldn't go into.  
**


	56. Chapter 56

**Local Cluster, Earth, Citadel**

"You're supposed to drink it, not make whirlpools out of it."

Ignoring the remark, Westir continued to stir the tea in his glass. His right leg jiggled minutely beneath the table as he stared at the large vid screen on the wall opposite him. The newscaster's voice was barely audible over the hum in the large canteen but the visuals that slide by provided some clues on the news content which was all too familiar; trouble somewhere. Probably a riot or maybe a protest, judging from the raised fists shaking over the heads and large flashing holobanners. He could even venture a guess on what it was all about and frankly he was tired of hearing about the TI. Perhaps he wouldn't have such a reaction were he living in a place where the threat hovered large and near. But he wasn't and he didn't want to hear about them everyday at every hour.

A series of sharp clicks drew his attention to Malon who peered at the screen of his portable console. "Portal block," he sighed. "The numbers must be overwhelming if I'm getting shunted to the hold," his hand snaked to a bowl of tiny raisin-like fruit near his elbow.

"News fly fast," Tessie muttered, busy over her own console. "There's a ton of complaints about offices closing down suddenly. From transportation tickets to restaurant reservations. Something big is coming up," she looked over to Malon. "Ferret out what hot potato the Conclave's gonna throw out yet?"

Looking about them, Westir smirked at his suspicion that anyone would bother to try to eavesdrop over the rumble of conversation, Malon whispered, "I heard there's some development over at Sur'Kesh."

"Hot damn," eyes round, Tessie stared at him. "How solid is it?"

Malon nodded to the glass of tea before West. "Probability is as good as West pouring that tea down the drain."

"Huh," snorted Tessie. "Fresh meat for the rabblerousers to gnaw over if true. They're going to think it's all due to them ten years down the road."

Noting the pained expression on Challa's face, Westir asked curiously, "Why are you looking so glum? If it's true, doesn't that mean your people would have a fighting chance of reclaiming your homeworld?"

"Supervisor Melik is going to call a general meeting after Conclave have concluded their session."

Three pair of eyes stared at Challa in astonishment.

"That doesn't sound good," Westir didn't doubt Challa, his information had always been good. No doubt word of mouth from whatever sources that were feeding him, but his dismal air was now explained. If there were going to be a general meeting, clearly, the Conclave's Question in Session had nothing to do with the TI problem. Really bad news for the Batarian Hegemony, the pitiful few remnants, who were the most desperate to retake Khar'Shan. "Anyone want to bet they're flipping Keeper pancakes?"

"Over their going EVA?" Malon popped in more fruit and chewed thoughtfully.

"That and the reactor core shut down. It had to be them."

"You think they're going to do something about the bugs?" scoffed Tessie. "I'll quit this job if that really happens...not that it would really happen," she tapped the table impatiently when they stared at her. "Think about it. The onus is on us to keep all the shit flowing smoothly. You guys want to be left holding the bag? Who's going to be picking up all the greasing those bugs are doing? Who's going to have to start mucking about in Bugland? We're going to be so really shorthanded that double shifts are going to sound like holidays."

Westir shrugged. "Not if they offer a quad jump in pay."

"It's not going to make any difference when you have a potbelly to lug about."

"Shut up Tess," said Westir irritably. "What I do off the job has nothing to do with you. So quit trying my reins."

"The debate will be short," Malon interjected quickly before Tessie could answer. "The Question is simplistic, not even the Volus ambassador can pick a financial quirk in it."

A disgusted snort of disbelief escaped Tessie and she abruptly turned in surprise when a loud chime rang out several times across the canteen. All conversations stilled as eyes turned to the large vid screen which went dark for a moment before the solemn jungle green face of Melik appeared.

_"This is Supervisor Melik. Conclave Session has just concluded with unanimous vote on the Question. The following actions will be carried out. All engineering and technical personnel are to actively ensure the safety and integrity of the Citadel with the closure of all wards that will be implemented in the next fifty days. All leaves are cancelled until further notice. All team leaders are to report to division chiefs after this announcement. Melik out."_

Shocked and befuddled silence stretched for several minutes. A fork dropped to the floor when someone pushed back his chair. The silvery tinkle as it bounced was extraordinarily loud. As if it was a signal, a hubbub of voices broke out at once. Questions and speculations flew fast and furious across every table, no one paid any heed to the vid as the official representative of the Conclave appeared, drowning out her words.

"...did he say fifty days?!..."

"...that's impossible, there're millions of people on station, are fifty days even..."

"...close the wards? What did he mean close the wards?!..."

"...what're they going to do with the station?!..."

"...I bought tickets home, what am I..."

"...mark my words, they're going to break it up..."

"...that is sooo stupid, you know what you're saying?..."

Their table was an island of silence in the churning sea of cogitation. Westir took a deep draught from his glass without realising what he had just drank. Too distracted and busy assimilating the astonishing broadcast, the others made no comment. A sudden clangor thundered out. Once again, voices were still and all eyes in the canteen were drawn to one spot. The red-faced man in coveralls on top of the food counter passed the huge metal platter and long scoop he was holding to someone behind him.

"Listen to the broadcast!" he shouted, waving at the vid sreen. As one, all attention turned as directed.

_"...all residents are ordered to evacuate the Citadel. Please report to your respective embassies for transportation arrangements. All constitutional, commercial and financial dispositions on the Citadel are suspended until the mandate has been carried out. Thank you."_

The image of the turian was replaced by columns of streaming information. Everyone looked at one another in common disbelief. Conversations broke out again but in subdued tones.

"They're serious," Tessie licked dry lips and grabbed her glass of water, eyes wide over the rim as she gulped.

"Closing down everything, taking off everyone..," Malon slowly closed the cover over his console. "They're going to move the Citadel," he said in hush amazement.

"That's impossible," muttered Westir. "No one knows how the Reapers did it, not even the ones who were on board and they were too busy fighting for their own survival. That's why the station's sitting in Sol for three years and will continue to sit here until someone figures it out..," he stopped abruptly when he realised what he had just said.

"Uh huh, looks like someone has figured it out," Tessie rolled her glass between her hands nervously.

"Or not?" Malon drummed his fingers on the table. "My supposition might be wrong...does anyone think it's strange?" he said abruptly. "Why fifty days? Does it sound like they're rushing?"

"Why not three months or half a year?" Tessie shrugged. "Maybe they've a schedule."

"Yeah...whose?" Westir shoved his glass aside. "The Keepers?"

"Yeah right, the Keepers," scoffed Tessie. "Why not...," she lowered her voice to a deep monotone, "voices from beyond..the ones who were dead eons ago...returning...to haunt the living."

"I'll take leaps of fantasy over ghoulish whimsy," snorted Westir. "How about the Rachni are behind this whole thing? Coming back to stomp on us with their itchy little bug legs."

"Come on, West. You're still blocked on those reports about Rachni helping out in the war?"

"If they really did that, where did they go when the war was over? Why isn't there an embassy of theirs on the Citadel?"

"Pffft...would the Council let in more bugs on the station?"

"You're supposed to report to Drake," Challa interjected before the exchange could turn into one of the duo's discourses that went nowhere, looking at Westir who grimaced.

"Fifty days..," he muttered as he pushed himself to his feet. "Somehow, I don't think we'll going to have a chance to hug our pillows too often," he said gloomily before making his way out of the canteen.

* * *

**SSV Glasgow**

"...essentially, the Marines' main assignment is to coordinate with Citadel Security and clear out Tishaeri Ward," Dorrin looked at the officers seated around the table in the briefing room. "By now, all commercial and financial services have closed down. No one," he looked at Major Stephos, "is to linger at any of those locales. No excuses. If anyone refuses to leave, remove by force if necessary."

Stephos nodded. "Sir, Tishaeri Ward is not exactly run-of-the-mill precinct. According to C-Sec, it's one of the most difficult human enclave to manage due to the criminal elements that have taken root. Extrinsic vices, drugs, smuggling, you name it, it's there."

"And?" Dorrin prodded quietly, hoping the major would just make his point.

"Well, sir, it doesn't make sense that our marines are restricted to small arms," Stephos said gruffily, managing to keep his tone even despite the discontent he was feeling. "Some of those tuffs would rather believe that the authorities are trying to run them out of their turf to clean out their dens than the station shutting down. It is going to get ugly."

Dorrin understood his concerns. He too, would prefer not to incur any deaths, especially marines and civilians, if he could help it. "It may have been an oversight, I'll pass this to the brass," he made a notation on his datapad. "Until it's clarified or amended, have the marines keep a light hand if they suspect crooked riffraff," he turned to a balding man with a thick horseshoe moustache. "Commander Rantos."

"Engineering have come up with a schedule and roster to keep the shuttles running though I've to stress that the consecutive cycles may result in rapid hardware degeneracy," his unhappiness was clearly defined in the hard bite at the end.

"Yes and I've read your memo regarding this concern and given my stamp of approval on the recommended acqusition manifest to BoAN but we'll just have to make do with spit wads if we have to," Dorrin said patiently. Rantos tend to be a vocal pain in the ass when it came to his precious domain, from the engines to every little hardwire bit. A vast difference from the previous chief engineer who had died when the Glasgow had taken damage during a Reaper onslaught that had decimated most of the Eighth Fleet. The man was married to his job and made sure everything was top flight, Dorrin recognized that. Could appreciate it even so he had tolerated every grouse from Rantos because he delivered.

Sweeping a glance across the table, other than Stephos's dissatisfaction and Rantos's grumpy frown, the others were pensive. His gaze lit on the sandy-haired man turning the datapad in his hands. "Surgeon Commander Hyanes."

"Our supplies will come mainly from the medical sectors on the Citadel so we're prepped and ready to go, sir," Hyanes said easily. "The only problems we may have to contend with are likely to be the usual run of neurotic maladies."

Dorrin didn't much care for his light dismissal. Moving millions of people was hairy business that could turn into disaster if not handled properly. Especially if someone took it into his head to create trouble. But he only nodded thoughtfully in response.

"Very well. Given that the evacuation is high profile, there are concerns that hostile elements may take this opportunity to launch an assault to achieve the maximum damage to Council authority and military efficiency across the board. Therefore, our operational status for this duration is C2," he felt the wave of surprise around the table before it subsided to thoughtful rumination. "Zeta Squadron will patrol their designated zones in two flights and coordinate with the Citadel Defense Net," he waited a bit for Captain Fokker to throw out any hitches he might have had with the schedule but the CAG only nodded. Not surprising since he had probably the easier job. "Then if there are no further issues, this conference is concluded."

The officers stood and waited for him to proceed to the hatch of the briefing room. Outside, he was surprised to see Sergeant Harris standing sentry with a Marine MP private. Security was usually the Marine MPs domain so there wasn't any reason for Harris to be there. Something in the man's gaze made him hesitate and he stood aside as the rest of the officers filed out, drawing curious glances. None ventured to speak though a frown crossed Stephos's face. Dorrin waited until they had disappeared round the corner of the corridor.

"You have something for me, Harris?" he said, cutting to the chase.

Harris snapped to attention. "Permission to speak privately, sir. Off the record."

Dorrin nodded to the stony-faced Marine private. "You're dismissed." The marine threw a crisp salute and strode away briskly. "Shouldn't the matter be taken up with Major Stephos?" he said once the Marine had disappeared.

"I did, sir, he said I've nothing to worry about but I thought I'll try to get it straight from the top."

"You need a second opinion when you already have an extremely qualified doctor's diagnosis?"

A faint flush reddened Harris's cheeks at the subtle reprimand. "I'm..I just want to be sure, sir," he said evenly. "Sir, I'm looking to transfer dirtside once...the TI problem is licked. To be closer to my family, sir. I know how things can come around eventually to break the bough and I'm not looking to that kind of trouble."

"Your family?"

"Wife and a daughter, sir. They survived the Reaper invasion, the war...they had a difficult time...I don't want to give them any more grief in the coming days. "

_Lucky bastard._ "I presume you're worried over diplomatic fallout from Dr Olor's suicide?" he said aloud.

"Yes, sir. In hindsight, I should have realised something was wrong."

Dorrin's eyebrows shot up. "How?"

"Dr Olor had a strange way of talking, sir. His syntax was always disjointed but on that day, he was speaking...," Harris searched for a suitable word. "Normally," he finished uncomfortably.

"That would certainly be abnormal," Dorrin tried to recall the brief exchanges he had with the salarian and realised Harris had a point; the salarian had been strangely polite and precise in his speech. "As far as I know, the Salarian Union sent word to the brass that they considered the matter closed and do not hold the Alliance at fault for the good doctor's suicide. Nor would they want to dig up the act of dishonor committed on Ilos. At least, that's what they implied. Actually," he added, "they probably didn't like the idea that their infamous intelligence competence was so roundly shown up on Ilos. And even if they did pull it out of the hat sometime in future, the Alliance are unlikely to play ball."

Harris visibly relaxed. "Thank you, sir, for taking the time to clarify the matter."

"You're going to catch some flak from Major Stephos for this."

"I'm aware of that but...it's worth it, sir."

"Dismissed."

Coming to attention, Harris saluted, pivoted neatly and marched away. Watching him go, Dorrin silently wished him luck. If they survived the complete retaking of their homeworld and bringing down whatever remained of Cerberus, he too, would like to be as fortunate as Harris.

* * *

**Rosetta Nebula, Alpha Draconis, Aeia**

The orb was blue white green. The colours elicited no excitement despite the semblance to Earth. For some who stride across the dark expanse, the sight of it only raised pinings for home. To a few, it was another planet of scientific interest. And to others who had only the hunt on their agenda, their interest held only as long as it took to search for their prey. Their attention to the scan readings on the planet was patient, diligent and thorough. When that raised no scent, they turned to the two moons. Lifeless rocks they may be, but there could be tracks to find.

The planetary system was one of several in the trail the hunters have travelled to in the past weeks. It was a relentless pursuit that threatened to culminate in failure. And frustration. Hopes began to rise when positive signs began to emerge. Calls were made and the hunters settled down to wait, watching and planning carefully. Drones were launched. Humming and chittering quietly, they dropped to the surface of the moon and glided smoothly over the craggy surfaces, sharply noting down even the tiniest features organic eyes could not have seen and sending every data back to their makers.

Eventually, three more frigates arrived and parked themselves above the moon. The hunters conferred and then, two descended from orbit down to the moon. Torpedoes were launched, striking precisely at hidden turret placements along the upper ridge. The frigates made another pass, swiftly demolishing any turrets that had not been touched before hovering near the base of the ridge, disgorging two Makos and squads of Marines before returning to orbit.

Advancing at careful speed in one of the Makos, Commander Coglin checked the beacon signal and drove in that direction. Keeping the body of the Mako between them and the ridge, the Marines kept pace. Not difficult to do since gravity was half that of Earth. The signal became stronger as they approached a long stretch of craggy ridge wall. Halting the Mako when the signal became a steady continuous ping, Coglin waited as one of the techs ran a spectrum scan. Looking at that wall, there was nothing to indicate it wasn't part of the natural landscape but the signal told a different story.

"There's something behind that wall, sir," said the tech. "I'm getting resonant readings of about sixty meters."

"Extent of entry?"

"Fifty by thirty, three meters deep barricade."

"Alpha and Baker, TFS, fifty by thirty," Coglin murmured into the comlink and settled down to watchful waiting as the Marines conducted a search along the wall. If there was an access port, they might be able to find it. If not, they would just have to hammer their way through. It made no difference which approach they employed, their foes would have known by now they had been discovered and would be prepared to fight it out. Which was fine with her. The only points she intent to make on this operation was not a victory, it was to ensure none of the Marines returned in body bags and that they would find enough information to nail down the renegades.

Half an hour went by and she tried not to drum her fingers on the console. The longer it took, the more time it would allow their foes to plan something vile. She looked over to the tech.

"Any chatter?"

"Nothing, sir. Still registering no significant heat signatures."

Finally, her comlink crackled as the Marines reported in. Failure. As she expected. Looking for an access port to open a barricade that resembled the surface of the moon was like looking for a needle in the haystack. Ordering the Marines to withdraw a distance behind the Makos, she switched over to the main gun. With the target sitting right in front of the cannon, there was little need to adjust the targeting scope. All she had to do was to press the trigger. The Mako shook as the cannon thudded. Outside, there was hardly any sound when the cannon went off. There was even less fiery display. But the impact could be seen. A large crater on the rock face. The other Mako fired another round into the same spot. Faint light glimmered through the broken metal.

With careful placement of shots, the crater was enlarged and mines planted. The resultant gap was large enough to admit the Makos. Coglin stifled a curse when the Mako rumbled in several meters to fetch up short. There wasn't anywhere to go. Listening to the reports from the Marines after they had examined the area, the Makos could proceed no further. Unbuckling herself from her seat, she exited the vehicle, glancing around. Other than two parked trucks, there was nothing else except the doors of a huge elevator at the back. Beckoning to the lieutenant and sergeant, she issued orders before approaching the elevator doors. Pulling the pistol from her waist, she shot out the security camera mounted over the doors.

Tapping her comlink, she said, "Scan update."

"No upsurge across the board," said the tech, still in the Mako.

Hitting the panel at the lift doors, she pointed to two of the squad infiltrators as the rest ranged themselves at the side. There was nothing in the lift when the doors opened, the infiltrators went in,looking like mice in the large empty space. Putting away the pistol, she unlimbered her assault rifle from her back, checking it over as she waited. The tracker beacon had led the frigate squadron to this rock. Tacked, she was told, onto a merchant freighter. She had no idea why the renegades would land and hide the ship here but one thing for certain, there had to be a bunker below. Big enough to park a transport. It seemed like a lot of trouble, wouldn't it be better to hide the ship in space than under a rock? Unless they were thinking it would be found more easily up there.

Her comlink blipped. "BI one to Falcon, all clear at forty. Entry point at fifteen."

Within minutes, she was riding down the elevator with the rest of the squads. Down and down they went, the number on the control panel reading eighty when the elevator stopped. The corridor they stepped out to was wide as it was long, definitely not meant to be a simple passageway. Rifles snapped up at the sound of an electronic spat above but it was only a shot out security camera. Gesturing to Alpha squad to join the two infiltrators far ahead, Coglin proceeded at a slower pace; she had spotted the door the infiltrators had found. She hit the door panel. Locked. The Marine tech went to work at once and the door snapped aside.

Nothing leapt out at them. The room was dimly lit, consoles were dark, a few hardcopies lined neatly on a shelf. Desks and chairs. An office. She picked up a coffee cup as she passed a desk; a faint brown smudge at the bottom. No dust on the furniture. Everything was almost spick and span. Clearly, this was not an abandoned facility. Seating himself at one of the consoles, the tech turned it on.

"Encrypted," he said.

"How long," she replaced the coffee cup back on the desk.

"A few minutes, tops," his omni-tool flashed.

"Falcon to BI one and two, proceed down the corridor but do not cross intersection,' she ordered as she walked over to the shelf. Picking up one of the hardcopies, it was thick and heavy with a black hardcover, she flipped through it. To her surprise, it turned out to be a printed chronicle of a xtranet blogging by someone named Sirenic. A tacky exposition full of sexual escapades from the looks of it. Who would be interested in reading such trash? Frowning, she checked the date on the first page. Nov 14 2173. Seventeen years ago. She picked up another one. It was the same except that the first date was ten years later. A check on the third file showed a more recent entry. A collection of stories from the blogger. Who was collecting?

"I'm in," the tech announced, distracting her.

Putting aside the files, she stepped over to the tech. "Pull up a map of the place."

"Sec," gnawing gently at his lower lip, the tech tapped quickly to bring up the main menu. More taps which brought a series of flashing windows of data too fast for her to read as they sped past. "Got it," he enlarged the diagram. "There are no further levels below, it looks like the corridor ended at a set of doors and branched out to this zone," he pointed to the space beyond the door icon. "There's no scale so I can't tell how big it is."

"Probably big enough to stash away a merchant freighter. What else is in there?"

He returned to the main directory. "Looks like various manifests, sir. Lots of it..," he tried to open one of the documents in the list. "And it's encrypted," he muttered in disgust.

"All right, break them all and make copies. Beta two, three and four, stay with him. Packed up the hardcopies, they're going with us when we leave. The rest with me," she stepped out of the room. "Falcon to Verdun. The trove has been found, moving to singer."

The voice sounded tinny through the mike, not surprising given the depth they were in. "Verdun copies. Clear skies."

Alpha squad was sitting at the end of the corridor, waiting for them. Other than the set of doors facing them, the passage ended there. Getting the doors opened turn out to be more difficult than expected. There were layers and layers of seals to break through that at one point, she considered mining the doors and had done, except that the Alpha Marine tech insisted that he could do it so she waited. With much low mutterings which sounded like profanity, the tech gave a low grunt of triumph when the doors finally obeyed his will.

Wide eyed, she stepped through out to a walkway. The space beyond was certainly big enough to house a merchant freighter. In fact, it was so cavernous, she counted three freighters sitting on the cavern floor. And from their size, they were Athabasca Class. Despite the low lighting, she could made out the name of the farthest freighter. MSV_ Bay City_. Beyond the ship was an enormous wall of stacked crates. How did they get the freighters into the cavern? She looked up at the high ceiling and saw what looked like huge hatches. There was the entrance but freighters couldn't land. Something else had gotten them in.

Descending from the walkway, she glanced about. "Sergeant, take Alpha squad and check out the freighter and the console at that end," she waved at the farthest ship, next to the wall of crates. "We'll take a look at this one," she headed for the nearest ship.

Since the freighter was multi-level, she knew the nearest airlock was the one at the main cargo hold. Accordingly, she headed down the length of the ship, the rest of the squad following behind watchfully maintaining a defensive perimeter. The name MSV _Kaiwo Maru_ was emblazoned boldly on the grey coloured hull. From the various large patchwork on the metal, it was a ship that had been heavily damaged at some point. Perhaps, like the Turian dreadnought, it was salvaged from wrecks.

Half-expecting another encrypted lock, she was somewhat surprised the outer hatch of the airlock responded readily to her touch at the control panel. Looking in, she saw an empty chamber. Palming open the inner hatch, she waited a beat before peering cautiously in. The cargo hold was not empty. It was filled with crates. So much supplies. Of what sort? It was so packed, there was only space for a narrow passage between the stacks. The numbers and letters on the crates meant nothing. She knocked on one. It thudded dully. With no lifting machinery, there was no way they could bring down or open any of the crates.

They came to the stairs that led upwards and ascended. The second level was just as loaded though the crates were smaller. Perhaps the ones below contained hardware, metal, tools. She peered at the tag on one, different scripts, not human. Evidently, they had traded among the allies. She recognised some Asari and Salarian markings. If all the crates contained food, there was enough to feed several thousands. Were they hoarding? Planning to release it on the galactic market to make a splash so they could use the credits for other purposes?

The third level was the crew quarters, which was as empty of personnel as the office. The antithesis of the tidy office, little piles of unwashed crockery ridged the galley counter. Dirty clothing were thrown everywhere with loud lewd posters glaring from the bulkheads. Screw you BUGS! was sprayed painted on the ceiling with an equally vulgar drawing. It was just as well they didn't have to smell the stink that must be soaking in the air. Kicking aside a high mound of obstructive debris in the passageway, Coglin began to head to the bridge when her comlink blipped.

"Alpha to Falcon, freighter is loaded with crates. Unable to determine contents...hold," the sergeant broke off and then returned. "Console appears to be the controls to the overhead hatches..., hold," he broke off again. As she waited, she thought she heard a muffled boom and stiffened when the sergeant said tensely, "Ramparts approaching our position!"

"Fall back to entry point," she signaled to the squad who began to head back down the stairs.

"Negative, there are too many of them...fall back to the ship...Alpha seven and eight...fall back!"

She could hear the roar of gunfire as she pounded down the stairs. "Falcon to Beta 234, hostiles sighted. I repeat, hostiles sighted. Return to surface." Dread rose in her when there was no reply.

There was worse to come. At the main cargo hold, the Marine who had exited the airlock ahead of the group shouted. "Sir, Ramparts approaching! No way to get to the walkway."

"How many?"

"Looks like a whole damn battalion!"

"Get back in, Marine and seal the airlock!" she cursed at the narrow confines of the main hold. There was no way they could effectively fight within the ship. "Falcon to Verdun," she muttered a silent curse when there was no reply. Evidently, signals were jammed. "Retreat to the second level," she ordered, hurrying back up the stairs, detailing half the squad to watch the stairs. Would the mechs attempt to enter the ship? The answer came in the sound of explosives against metal; the mechs were firing their way in. Clearly, their orders were to get rid of intruders than to preserve the precious stores. If there were hundreds of Ramparts out there, they didn't have enough to keep them out.

_Great. How do we get out of this mess?_


	57. Chapter 57

**Words of note**

**ECP - entry control point**

* * *

**Thessia**

The emptiness woke her. Instinctively, her hand reached out but encountered nothing as her eyes opened to the cheery bright amber of sunlight on the walls opposite the bed. A glance at the chronometer on the nightstand revealed it was past ten. Hours past the time she usually got up and judging from the cold space beside her, her bondmate had let her slumbered. Sliding out of bed, she took a peek out of the window and blinked at the faint white haze that covered it. Temperatures had fallen during the night. Snows would be coming soon.

After another glance, she headed for the bathroom. Foregoing a dip in the sunken tub, she took a quick shower and was soon running an eye over the array of garments in the wardrobe. Absently, she ran a hand over her slightly round belly as she reached for a top before changing her mind and took a long thick mid-thigh tunic with a rolled collar instead; she had noticed a slight difficulty in getting into her clothes recently. A pair of flexible pants completed the outfit. Slipping her feet into soft shoes, she peered at the mirror. Satisfied, she left the bedroom. As usual, Effia intercepted her at the bottom of the stairs and she smiled in greeting. Never was there an instance since she was little had the housekeeper failed in this aspect every morning. Well, mostly.

"She's at the workout room," Effia handed her a large mug, "and I know you won't want to stay in the kitchen. Careful, it's hot," she warned, passing over a thick square batt.

"Thank you, Effia," Liara held the mug carefully with the batt at the bottom. "Is she alone?"

"Lt T'Enaire has been with her since she dropped in two hours earlier," Effia sniffed before adding, "Aethyta invited Admiral Shepard out on a walk...I think."

"You think?" Liara wondered if she should be worried. The two hadn't exactly been at odds but she sensed the elder Shepard was somewhat impatient with Aethyta.

Effia shrugged. "They were standing too far away for me to try extending a ear," she chuckled at Liara's reproving look, "before going off in the skycar. Not coming back for lunch, I was told. Speaking of which I must get back to in the kitchen," she turned away before turning back to add with a stern gaze, "watch your step now."

"I will," Liara watched her receding back with a fond smile before heading for the west side of the house, passing a few of Effia's assistants running the annual survey of the structural integrity of the building in the hallway. Such care had ensured the estate had remained relatively sound for millenniums.

The swirling passage of leaves out the windows along the corridor drew her attention to the brown carpet over the ground and she slowed down to a stroll. The trees stood bare and forlorn, a shrunken look about them. Drawing another reminder how time had flown. Another season, another year. However, when the trees and flowers once again stand in full bloom, there would be another to share in the wonders of the world. She hoped. As she approached a large door, a hand touched the door panel as she moved to open it with an elbow. Startled, she turned to see that one of the assistants, having anticipated she would need help, had followed her. With a murmur of thanks, she went in.

The round room was large, with long benches set at intervals along the wall. Floor to ceiling doors that looked out to the gardens lined one end with high windows on the others. Light filtering through lit the room cheerily. With the drop in temperature, the windows were closed to shut out the chill. Warm air flowing through the vents maintained a pleasant clime. Standing in the center of the room were two figures, dressed in comfortable one-piece gi and protective gear. Neither were moving as they faced each other at an angle. But from the sweat on Shepard's forehead and the darkened flush on Sanar's face, they had already gone several rounds.

Silently, she sat down on one of the benches near the door, putting the mug beside her and propped her chin in her hands, watching the two. Despite the sashes they wore at their waists, there was no banding but she knew T'Enaire's rank was at three. Her bondmate had refused to take the grading tests, citing lack of proficiency but she thought that Shepard just couldn't be bothered. It was simply an interest that she indulged in now and then, mostly against Effia's assistants who had given her all the training she needed. Right then, her posture was relax but Liara knew she was poised to snap into action within seconds.

Seconds ticked by and still, the two didn't move, she waited patiently. She could almost followed the train of Shepard's thoughts as she watched Sanar. Waiting for that moment. She wasn't sure who was the first to strike but it seemed to her they were both moving almost at the same time. Hands and feet snaked out with oiled smoothness, seeking to land that first crippling blow. The protective gear shielded vitals but the force behind the strikes could be felt. In the split second when she saw the foot heading for her middle as she lunged forward, Shepard diverted her blow and slammed down on the knee with her arm instead. It did not stop the thrust to her solar plexus but reduced the force. As her arm rebounded, she turned it to jab her elbow into Sanar who blocked it partially with her left arm even as her right arm struck at Shepard. It never landed. Instead, Shepard caught hold of it with her left hand. With her leg not having reached the floor, Sanar's balance was slightly off. A fact that Shepard was quick to take advantage of. A boost with the right arm still at her middle and a heave tumbled her over.

"Point," Sanar acknowledged as Shepard bent over her and accepted the offered hand. "You're getting better at this."

Shepard snorted. "At fifteen points to twenty-one?"

"You're too hard on yourself," laughed Sanar. "You're one of the rare few humans to have achieved this much."

"You're so encouraging," Shepard sighed, sweeping back a stray strand of hair. "Another round?"

"I've to get back to the Academy," Sanar said regretfully as she unbuckled the protective gear and moved to the entrance. "Morning, Liara."

"Morning, Sanar..," Liara noted with interest the darker blotch at her cheek.

"Hey, love," Shepard bent to kiss her.

"It looks like you've both scored against each other," Liara touched the large bruise on her bondmate's jaw.

"Lucky strike," Shepard said ruefully.

"Yours or hers?"

"Mine," unwinding the towel at her neck, Shepard sat down beside her. "She let me threw her in that last bit."

"Now Captain, I always play fair," Sanar grinned. "If you hadn't been paying attention, I would have given you a hard thumping. I'm sorry, I've to run," she said apologetically and waved a farewell as she exited through the door.

"What's her hurry?"

"New batch of recruits to break in," Shepard rubbed her face dry with the towel, "and I was having too much fun that I forgot about the time and kept her."

"Perhaps if you get a teacher," carefully, Liara lifted the mug beside her and took a sip, "you would not accidentally make such an imposition,"

"With the crazy schedule that I have?"

"Your current schedule, as I recall, has nothing more lively than an appointment with Telienos this afternoon."

"Yeah, that's something I want to know about too," tossing the towel down on the bench, Shepard reached for the shoulder buckle of her padded body armor. "Isn't it time to stop dancing around the subject? It's been been nearly a week." The buckle popped and she reached for the other.

"Telienos felt it is better for you to resume your daily routine before she briefed you on what had happened," Liara knew that was not what her bondmate wanted to hear but she did not feel confident enough to handle it on her own.

"Suggesting that I need to oreint myself makes it sound as if I lost some of my marbles in the process," Shepard said jokingly as she unstrapped the waist band and stared at Liara when she looked uncomfortable.

"No," Liara looked down into the mug before meeting her bondmate's eyes. "But you might not be happy with some of the proposals that were considered to bring you out of the coma."

Laying aside the body armor, Shepard leaned back against the wall. "Considered...so those weren't used at all, were they?"

"No but Telienos wants you to have a very clear picture of the entire process."

"I see...so did the more radical suggestions come from Telienos?" Shepard frowned when Liara looked pensive. "Don't tell me...," she stopped abruptly with a muttered curse. "My mother?"

"She only wanted to see you return...," began Liara quickly.

"At what cost?" Shepard interrupted angrily. "What was it?"

"Shepard, please, let us just wait until we see Telienos and start at the beginning."

"This whole thing about getting back into my routine is to get me cosy up with her so I can forgive whatever it was she wanted done then, wasn't it?"

"Yes and no..."

"Well, it isn't working," Shepard said bitingly, springing to her feet. "We haven't exactly been getting past the ice age," she snatched up the body armor and turned to the door. Her shoulders slumped. "Why is she here?"

"Shepard..."

"I know...she wants to help," Shepard turned back to her. "She wants to get me back on my feet. She wants to mend bridges. Do you see any of that happening in the past week?"

"It..."

"What she really wants is to shove me into that tidy little picture she has of me. Fine upstanding Alliance officer for a daughter. The farther I go, marry conventionally, the happier she is. Because then she doesn't have to face down the talk about her family. Maybe she even thinks I'll dump you and get myself a solid square tin soldier for a husband once we start to talk her way...well," she said heatedly, "it's not going to happen..."

"You are jumping to conclusions," Liara interrupted, holding her tone even. "There is no open channel between the two of you so how can you claim to know what she wants?"

"Liara..," Shepard began to protest.

"The two of you are so stiffly polite every time you lay eyes on the other, how are you even suppose to reach a level of deeper understanding?" annoyance flashed in Liara's eyes and she saw her bondmate's surprise. "It is so frustrating to watch. How can you hope to even climb the first rung when you already decided you have reached the top?"

"Let's drop the subject," Shepard stamped down on the urge to pour out her resentment. It wasn't fair to rain it down on Liara when she was only trying to help. "It's not something that's going to be solved any time soon," she said quickly.

"No, it is not going to be settled soon," Liara agreed, "and it will never get to the first step because you do not want to take that step. What are you afraid of?"

"It's...," angry denial rose up in Shepard but she forced it away. "Alright...I don't want to stir anything up between us over my mother..."

"You started it," Liara returned tartly.

"Fine," Shepard sighed. "Forget it...I'll just hear what Telienos has to say," she jabbed at the door panel forcefully and strode out. After hesitating for a moment, Liara followed, mug in hand. It was some time before the heated haze lifted from Shepard and she realised the furious pace she was setting. Although Liara had made no complaint and kept up, the clear sign of her bondmate's pregnancy was an admonishment of her foolishness. Hurriedly, she dropped to a slow stroll and took hold of Liara's elbow.

_Sorry, love. {contrite}_

_Has it never occurred to you that you are doing what you are accusing your mother of? Putting her in the mold you conceived without giving her a chance to justify those years to you._

_{sigh} I'm really really trying but she's really not making it easy with that...{long sigh} can we drop it?_

_We will just leave the fight for later then. {impish}_

A chuckled escaped Shepard before it died away. "I got word from Dorrin. Said they're heading for some real ugly holdouts on the Citadel," she said aloud. "Most don't want to be mushed meat in a tin and can't seem to get off fast enough. The rest are not leaving without lugging their ill-gotten gains with them." She glanced at Liara when she remained silent, seemingly not to hear.

Gaze turned inward, Liara said thoughtfully, "What surprises me is the stance the Council are taking. It cannot be a voluntary decision."

"No," Shepard agreed. "Remember their damn spiel back in those days when we were talking about the Reaper invasion? They were so afraid of stirring up the masses and look what they're doing now," she snorted before murmuring. "If they were cornered into this situation, what are the chances it's going to happen again?"

Liara shook her head. "Without details, I do not think we can form a credible premise."

"I don't think they would be willing to share, do you? Here, let me take that," Shepard took away the mug as they approached the stairs to the upper floor, draping the body armor she was carrying over her shoulder. "Details or no," she continued, "voluntary or no, returning the station to neutral territory would cut out some of the raging controversies. You'd think my own people would be pleased enough to get that damn station out of their skies but I seemed to be hearing different."

"If... they decide to break the news on the scrambler...I am sure most of the isuues would be swept aside...Shepard, I am hardly going to faint or fall," Liara said gently when her bondmate kept a firm hand on her arm as they climbed the stairs. "I am perfectly healthy."

"Hey, I'm enjoying the easy part here. Wait till you're big enough to waddle, I don't think I'll be able to handle you alone."

"What makes you think I will waddle?" Liara was surprised at the notion.

"Well...uh...pregnant women get kind of...big...you know," Shepard extended the elbows of both arms to pantomine a wide waist, "and they kind of...," she bent her spine, pushing out her flat stomach as she swayed side to side, "move about so."

Dimples appeared briefly on Liara's cheeks as she chuckled. "Would that make me very gross if I really expanded that much?"

"Gross?" Shepard paused as she opened the door of their bedroom. "Lady...," she took hold of Liara's hand and drew her in after her, "even if you turned into a blimp, everything about you is still beautiful..."

* * *

**Rosetta Nebula, Alpha Draconis, Aeia**

Tension steadily ratcheted upward from the din of explosions and screeching from the airlock at the main cargo hold. It would not be long before the first of the Ramparts come storming in right to the stairs. Frowning, Coglin looked down at the short flight of stairs. Even if they bottled up the Ramparts at the bottom, the amount of heat residue they could generate would affect the immediate infrastructure which might collapse the upper deck and cargo on the mechs. That would take care of the machines in the cargo hold but not the ones outside. If they held out long enough, relief troops might eventually arrived from the frigates in orbit but she had no intention of waiting for rescue or having more troops fall into the line of fire.

"Beta six, with me," she ordered. "The rest of you, keep them pin when they get here."

Climbing up the next flight of stairs to the third deck, she ran down the passageway through the crew quarters to the bridge, the Marine tech right at her heels. The hatch to the bridge opened readily as she slammed her hand on the door panel. Her gaze flicked quickly over the workstations; communications, sensors, helm.

"See if comms would work," she said as she moved to the pilot's seat. The control panel was dark but she did not touch it. Instead, she lifted the magnetically pinned sheaf of papers and pockets on the bulkhead over the chair, searching. When that turned up nothing, she bent to run fingers under the seat.

"I can't get the board to work, sir," said the Marine.

"Look around the other seats, for a command wand."

"Would they have left it behind?" the Marine was doubtful but did as she asked, peering into corners and checking under the seats.

"Freight runners usually have a backup stowed on the bridge," she said and did not pause even when the sound of assault rifles opening up filtered through the deck. "Come on, come on, there should be one," she muttered, unfolding the pocket flaps above the communications console. Her heart lifted when she felt the rod among the papers. Pulling it out, she saw it was what she wanted. Moving quickly over to the pilot's seat, she dropped into it and inserted the wand into one of the tiny ports at the side with a silent advocation to whomever was listening. If the renegades had stocked up the freighters, they had plans to move them some time later. That meant the ships were spaceworthy, not junk. As if in answer, the consoles on the bridge lit up. In response, the deck below seemed to bounce in rapid session. It sounded like several mechs had gone up.

"Take comms and try to establish contact," she ordered as she moved to power up the engine core. It would take several minutes for the core to tune up to full power but that was not what she was after.

"Sir, with the hatch of the cavern closed, what're you going to do?" asked the Marine, one eye on the console before him. Surely the commander wasn't thinking of flying them out of there?

Ignoring the question, she tapped her helmet comlink. "Falcon to Alpha, report!"

"We're holding them down at the main hold," came the reply. "Minor injuries, no casualties."

"Stand by," she enabled the viewer that would allow her to see outside the _Kaiwo Maru_. Her mouth went dry when she saw the surging mass of mechs. The Marine's estimate of a battalion was horribly correct, the numbers were more then enough to turn everyone and anything to jelly. "Beta squad, secure for serious tumbling. Grab hold of anything near you!" she hit the controls for manuevering thrusters.

"Sir, are you sure they would even work in atmosphere?!" the Marine behind her pulled the seat buckle over himself, silently praying.

The roar of firing thrusters was loud. As if surprised, the teeming mechs pushing to get into the freighter stopped and looked up. Shuddering massively, the ship rose ponderously for several meters. The Ramparts that were near the thruster exhausts were caught in the intense heat, exploded. Others were blown off their feet and went windmilling into the rest. Those that were progressing into the ship through the airlock fell off, knocking down a few below on the ground. Fingers tapping quickly on the controls, Coglin hesitated for a moment. What if there were volatile materials in those crates in the main hold? What if the core containment broke? Shaking her head, she enabled the sequence. If she did nothing, they would all end up dead.

The freighter glided sideways. As if unaware of their impending doom, the heads of the mechs followed the movement and remained tilted upwards even as the bulk of the ship slammed down on them. The lower deck seemed to go mad at once. The massive detonations of so many Ramparts and the aluminum-alloy heat-dispersal sinks of their their weapons tore up the light outer armor of the ship, melting through half the deck plates and the lower stacks of crates. Caught in the fiery mire, the mechs in the main hold exploded when their armor melted, turning more of the cargo around them into slushy junk. Forewarned, the Marines posted at the stairs of the second deck scrambled to the third deck the moment the explosions went off. Looking down the stairwell, they saw the lower stairs warping when the chain of explosions caught up to the front line of Ramparts and then they went tumbling as the ship heaved in response to the detonations.

The moment the freighter hit the mass of Ramparts, Coglin swept her hands across the console, killing the engine core in the hope that containment would not be breached and held on, waiting for the upheaval to subside. Behind her, the Marine released his death grip on the chair.

"Beta Squad, sound in!" she said crisply and was pleased when everyone answered. "Assemble at personal access airlock, deck three."

"Alpha to Falcon, what were those massive explosions?" came the sergeant's anxious voice.

"Sweeping the mechs on our side, stand by for extrication," she said as she headed for the airlock with the Marine closed behind. They met up with the rest of Beta squad at the inner hatch. "All right," she said as she palmed opened the hatch. "We're going over the top and if we're lucky, the freighter would be right next to the second ship." The outer hatch opened readily and she peered out cautiously, looking to the right and left for the built-in access ladder and spotted the rungs at once. "Watch your step," she said as she leaned out carefully to grab on to the nearest rung.

Reminding herself not to look down, she slipped out and climbed steadily. The ladder followed the curve of the hull to the top and she crouched down once she reached it. As far as she could see, there was nothing dangerous hovering overhead but she could hear the sound of battle from the farthest freighter. However, the collapse of the main cargo hold had tilted the freighter but it seemed to lie flushed against the second ship. Murmuring into her comlink, she advanced carefully as the rest of the squad ascended. Despite the slant of the hull, she traversed the breadth of the ship easily. The hull of the second freighter rose above her head. Turning, she motioned to the nearest Marine to give her a boost up.

As the rest scrambled up behind her, she inched cautiously across the hull. Her eyes gleamed when she spied the mass of Ramparts around the first freighter, the _MSV Bay City_. There seemed to be less of them going for Alpha, perhaps a hundred or so. None had diverted to the aid of their destroyed compatriots and none had sensed that they were now outflanked. Silently, she signaled to the squad. Spreading out in a file, they laid down prone, meticulously prepared their grenades and checking their gun-sights as she murmured their assigned targets. If they destroyed enough of the mechs in the first barrage, the resultant backlash would take down more.

After another check, she eyed her target through the scope of her rifle. "Open fire."

The Ramparts went up like fireworks when the grenades exploded in their midst, tearing armor apart. As she expected, the mechs' offensive systems worked against them, packed as they were. With features designed to taken down their foes even as they were destroyed, they ended tearing up the rest of the mechs. Leaving those in the periphery of the targeted zone the ones with any ability to return fire but even then, their programmed response was less than adequate. With sensors overwhelmed by the deluge of conflicting data, their shots went wild. Which gave Coglin and Beta squad a free field to take down the unaffected Ramparts.

In response to the attack outside, the mechs within the _MSV Bay City_ began to backtrack. Only to end up splintered into pieces as the Marines picked them off when they exited the main hold. When no more mechs appeared active, Coglin ordered Alpha to remain where they were; the huge pool of sludge from the mechs was too hot to step on. Instead, she found the hull ladder leading to the personal access airlock of the second freighter and descended into the ship with Beta squad, finding it just as loaded with crates. Outside, there was just a narrow strip of ground beside the ship that was safe to walk. They made it to the walkway, finding the occasional random Rampart that had escaped the carnage and through the entrance of the cavern.

"Beta 234, come in," she tried over the comlink once more as they went down the corridor.

"Mechs," said the lead scout.

"Fry them," she brought up her assault rifle. The handful of Ramparts went down before the barrage. Leaping over the slowly melting debris, she charged for the door of the office. It was opened. Looking in, her shoulders slumped slightly. The rest of the squad said nothing though their postures were just as dejected at the carnage within. Turning away, she tapped her comlink. "Falcon to Verdun." A faint crackle came over the mike.

"Verdun copies. Signal is not clean, Falcon. Report."

"Hostile mechs encountered. Three-niner-charley-delta-lambda. Casualties, four."

A brief pause. "Verdun copies. Sigma-delta-two."

Angrily, she switched channels. "Alpha, check out the grounds. If safe, return to ECP, we're pulling out as soon as you get here," she gazed into the office again. "They better have left crumbs for us," she muttered.

* * *

**Unknown location.**

The air smelt clean. That was the first thing he sensed. The other was that he felt good, rested, comfortable. That strange woolly cotton feeling he always had after a bout of illness. A sense of giddiness too. He took another breath. There should be pain, somewhere. His head. But he felt nothing. Opening his eyes, he stared up into dark overhead lights and he remembered. The doc mouthing words he barely heard, the surgical procedure and he eyed the room with distaste. A rustle sounded beside him and he turned his head. The grey eyes in the long pale face smiled.

"Lance," he was surprised at the croak from his mouth.

"You got it right," Lance grinned. "What do I have?" he held out his hand before his friend's eyes.

"The shortest prick to date?" he said mockingly of the stubby finger.

"Yeah, you're just as sour," Lance snorted, reaching out to help him sit up. "How's the head."

"Bigger than yours," he took a deep breath, slowly working the muscles in his shoulders. "What did the doc say?"

The smile dropped from Lance's face. "She couldn't get it all. The best she can do is install nodules that might deter the impulses."

He shrugged. It was a gamble. He wasn't expecting to win but there was an off chance he just might be able to cheat. "Anything else?" he rolled his arms, flexed his hands.

"You're not going to like it," Lance turned away, reaching out to the flask and glass on the side table. "They found one of our caches," he sense the movement stilling behind him and continued as he poured out water. "On Aeia. The alarm was set off when the sentry turrets were destroyed and the V.I. activated the Ramparts."

"And?" he growled.

"The mechs were wiped out," Lance handed him the glass.

"How much did we lose?"

"We had three freighters stowed there, plus stores. Six hundred thousand tons," Lance sighed when his friend's knuckles whitened around the glass.

"How did they find out?"

"I've no idea. Maybe we didn't hide it well enough."

"Do you know how huge the galaxy is?" he demanded. "And they just happened to hit it," he snapped his fingers in emphasis. "Just like that."

"Well, we aren't going to find out how they sniffed it out, are we?" Lance said patiently. "It's just the one, I don't think they're going to find any more. Besides, we're shifting out all the rest. What're you doing?" he asked when his friend slide off the bed, dumped the glass on the side table and stepped over to the small wardrobe at the wall.

"Getting back to work, what do you think?" he stripped off the gown and reached for his clothes. "I'm not just going to think it's just the one. Speed up the process on the rest, I don't want to lose any more."

"Six hundred thousand tons is not going to cut us short."

"And before you know it, we're going to lose hundreds of thousands. Millions!" he snapped, glaring at Lance who looked away. "Sorry," he turned back to pull on his trousers. "Just get the rest up and moving. I'll make sure they aren't going to come sniffing after us."

"What're you planning to do?" Lance thought he knew what his friend would do but felt he had to ask all the same.

"Make them pay, of course," his cold blue metallic eyes gleamed eerily in the light. "How can our guests just drop by and take without leaving something behind?" he pointed a finger at Lance. "No one gets a free pass at our expense. You just watch," he turned away and stepped out through the door.


	58. Chapter 58

**Words of note**

**ASFC - advanced scout functional component**

**BE - Battle Exchanges**

**BoR - Bureau of Resolution**

**GAS - ground, air, space**

**IS - Interceptor Squadron**

**KBO - keep buggering on**

**LPA - localized planetary administration**

**SU - situation unchanged**

**UFV - unidentified flying vehicle**

* * *

**Local Cluster, Earth, Unknown Location**

The globe spun slowly. A glittering ball of colours and blinking text. Ignoring the image, he keyed in a code which opened up an encrypted data package. Tapping carefully on the board before him, the officer's eyes flicked back and forth between his console and the streaming data on another screen off to the right. As he loaded the information, a section of the globe gleamed brightly for a moment before reflecting the new input. A patch of red with myriad icons that stood out against the haze of mild blues and greens enveloping the sphere.

"That's it, sir," he said without looking over his shoulder at Langdon standing behind him. "Latest dispatch from Taskforce 187 indicate MZ1 holding steady, ASFCs in place, no incursions for the last 48 hours. No air traffic detected since perimeter was closed."

"Status on MZ2?"

"SU, sir."

"Show me the latest BE consecution for MZ1," Langdon watched intensely as the officer did as he asked, bringing up yellow icons that littered the border of the red zone, listening as the officer related the sequence of exchanges between the Alliance forces and the TI insurgents. Reports he had read but reading and visualising were two different concepts and he liked to see the chain of events occurring across the topography. It enhanced a better grasp of enemy approaches and intentions. As it was, the engagements seemed no more than the usual TI attempts to push out from the zone they had been corralled into. Or was it? Despite evidence that pointed to a foe whose primary strategy had been attrition assaults through the years, worn down to fabian tactics to full withdrawal to their last several strongholds, he could never put aside the suspicion that they were merely employing defense in depth.

It was a gut feeling, no more. There was no substantial corroboration to confirm the theory he had put forth several months ago that the TI were networked throughout major home systems and had been working in collaboration since the war began. It was a logical basis to work on given they were all Reaper thralls, programmed with one objective in mind. With his Allied counterparts drawing the same conjecture, every effort was made to sieve out a fragment in the TIs' information dissemination in every data network and yet so far they drew a blank. It was there, he was sure of it. All they need was a lucky break to find how the enemy encrypted and send their messages.

Lost in his musings, it was some time before he realised the officer had finished his report and was waiting for further orders. "Carry on," he turned and headed for his office.

Pouring himself a cup of coffee from the flask from the small galley, he sat down at his desk, looking over the most recent reports. With the Citadel undergoing shut down, Alliance Navy Intelligence operations was permanently consolidated down on Earth. It was where he should have been in the first place but with anarchism raging across the globe after the war and lack of reliable security on the ground, the Citadel had been the better choice to lodge for a time. Looking about his relatively new office, he pursed his lips. The only good thing he could say of it was that it was large and came with a small well-stocked galley.

The other was that he now had a earthy address opposed to the resplendent abode on the Citadel. Getting to and fro from work was a mere few minutes ride. What he would miss at his old office was the freedom he enjoyed during lunch hour. Mingling with the crowd and strolling about the Presidium before deciding on the choice of grub at selected restaurants and cafes. Yes, he would definitely miss resting his eyes on the myriad of peaceful colours and beauty that roamed the station. Down here, his meals would be sent in. The other thing he did not definitely mourn the loss of was the re-assignment of his pale fish of a secretary. With all his staff assembled, he didn't need a peon.

As he bent to peruse the latest report on his console, the bell of his door chimed. "Come," he looked up to see his subordinate though he preferred to think of him as a colleague, Vice Admiral Briggs of BoR. "Trouble?" he said when he saw the scowl on the man's swarthy face; things were obviously not going well with the relocation operation.

"The usual," Briggs dropped into one of the seats before the desk with a sigh and shook his head when Langdon gestured that he could help himself at the small galley. "Just had a late lunch with the staff."

"How's the situation groundside?"

"Not as bad as what we got after the war but we're getting slammed left and right. They just don't appreciate the enormous operation we are undertaking," absently slapping the armrest of his chair, Briggs scowled. "Prising them from their bucolic existence on the station couldn't have come at a better time. They don't seem to realise their tenure is temporary. Give them another few more years up there and they'll start to think the place is theirs to hold. That'll raise a bigger stink then."

"KBO the malcontents."

"Oh, we're certainly doing that," Briggs said dryly. "They just give us back double, triple and it's getting more ugly. There's a lot of resentment simmering on the ground," his face turned grim. "I have a bad feeling about this...this is one mean powder keg that is going to blow up on us. Sometimes I wish we could switch places with the Quarians."

"Considering that they were wanderers and pariahs for over three centuries, they deserved to enjoy the peace and prosperity we have taken for granted before the war."

"Oh, I'm not begrudging them that but I certainly do wish our own would realise that giving way, sacrifices and dry pickings are here to stay for quite some time. Which leaves us with quite a few problems," Briggs straightened. "We caught several runners trying to whisk contraband past a few points."

Langdon sighed. "Any particular enclave they're targeting?"

Briggs shook his head. "Broad dissemination, no specific centralization. We're still collating the reports but I'm not sure we would find anything of relevance to the TI."

"General dispersal is expected, those items will eventually end up at their intended destination. Keep working on those runners," Langdon said firmly, "no matter how high it goes, we need to sort out whoever's behind the fraudulent operations."

Briggs's face darkened. "I don't really like how deep you're going."

"If I have to, I would go as deep as the pits of hell," Langdon said coldly. "Right now, every enclave is jockeying for dominance in Parliament and we know how politicos tend to run the razor's edge when they play their games. If they are clean, all the better but we cannot depend on the slippery path of human conscience," Langdon didn't care if he was coming across as a diehard skeptic but he knew what he said could not be refuted. "The TI at MZ1 and MZ2 are boxed in now," he continued, "but the tide can change at any moment. With the chaos generated by the populace shift from the Citadel, this is the best time to slip essential supplies in to them."

Brows furrowed, Briggs nodded, recalling the overwhelming bleakness and desperation he had felt when news broke of the devastation of the Alliance Second Fleet at Arcturus Station and the remnants of the First, Third and Fifth Fleet that had managed to escape. Worst still was that the Fourth Fleet was totally destroyed defending Earth. When he had his first view of the the giant synthetic foes and their armies, it had seemed overwhelmingly impossible to surmount and yet, somehow, they had. Who knew the TI might not just arranged to have the same kismet with some help. Which brought him really to an issue of outmost concern.

"What're the chances of deploying the Prothean device?" he said.

"No determined results as yet," Langdon turned to his console, hiding a smile; two weeks it had been since the latest update from Sur'Kesh and Briggs was the only officer who had dared to ask him outright. The rest had chosen to hold on tight to their speculations.

"Do you think the Old Man is right?" Briggs drummed his fingers nervously on the back of his hand. "He didn't come right out to say it but he's referring to the possibility of the TI going berserk and engaging in a rampage in the last stages of the atrophy, right?"

"That is a possibility though the scientific brains think physiology would be critically impaired but that doesn't mean their mental processes wouldn't go even more psychotic before then," he eyed his colleague darkly. "They can either turn their madness among themselves or against us. Either way, we can not afford to slip up. And neither can we pin all our hopes on an ancient device that might not even work," he added, knowing how much stock had been invested in the outcome of the experiment.

A buzz cut through the air sharply as Briggs made to reply. A corner of the desk lit up, a small red holographic icon flashed. At the sight of it, Langdon's lips thinned. Without a word, he got up and headed for the door, Briggs at his heels, and made a beeline for the officer overseeing LPA in the war room, essentially a division overseeing security in the civilian sectors which would have been under the aegis of whichever nation state they were located. That was before the Reaper War. Now, most of the survivors were settled on reclaimed territory in hastily built residential towers within the former European League. Half were chafing to return to their own territory and living the old way; spreading out their abodes in swathes. The other half were more than happy to stay where they were. With the influx of populace that had originally been located on the Citadel, the simmering level of political and social disaffection had grown more miasmatic.

Much of it would abate if there had been more territories to reclaim but even with the Geth and their human counterparts working continuously, no more zones could be opened up due to the diffusion of eezo contaminants and various unknown elements left by the invaders in the environment. The problem was further compounded by the current campaign to stamp out the TI who used whatever arsenal they had indiscriminately. It would take a several more years of cleansing and revitalising the soil before any one could safely reside any where on Earth. A fact that the malcontents were unwilling to accept. Or too blind and stubborn to accept. Sometimes Langdon couldn't help but wonder if the security scanners were really that effective in sieving out the TI.

"Report, Major Brigham."

"We have a S3 alert at checkpoint RF14," Brigham said crisply, highlighting the area on the magnified section of the globe before them. RF14, Langdon saw, was along the old border that cut between Norway and Finland. One of several checkpoints set up to process part of the populace from the Citadel relocated to the Scandi Enclave. "Party of three, purporting to be transporting supplies to Clearing Station 28, exchanged fire with security when attempts were made to screen their cargo. Security were unable to contain the situation due to numerous civilian elements that reacted to the gunfire. We have confirmed reports of indiscriminate weapons discharge from the latter parties. Current estimated casualties stand at 60 civilians and six Marines. Civilian transit is in lockdown."

"And the three suspects?"

Brigham shook her head, eyes grim. "Security were unable to determine their location once the situation was under control. All three are not among the casualties. However, Security were unable to account for one of their shuttles. Vid records are currently under examination but it would take some time to identify it from the amount of traffic moving at that time. Attempts to track both onboard and emergency transponders has failed. IS-129 and IS-133 are already scrambled but current satellite scans are not picking up any UFV in the immediate vicinity. A few witnesses claimed to have seen the shuttle taking off and heading towards the mountain ranges."

Langdon nodded. "They are probably lying doggo nearby. Maintain a GAS search, extend..," he paused for a moment as he regarded the topography of the zone, "to D3 from point RF14."

"Yes, sir," Brigham nodded and added. "Security have managed to obtain part of the suspects' cargo and report there are no suspicious devices to be found. The cargo is currently undergoing further scanning."

"The cargo was abandoned from the onset?" Langdon felt a streak of chill at Brigham's confirmation but kept his gaze impassive. "Very well. Until we can determine their intention, file a notification with the Scandi governor that level one APS martial law is in effect." That was not going to go down well with the enclave factions and the populace. There would be another slew of furious protests and debates in Parliament but that was not Langdon's concern when this latest incident could be a sign of a bigger onset of hostility from the TI. "Detain all former Citadel residents, both processed and under evaluation for interrogation."

"Yes, sir," Brigham nodded coolly as if the task was of small matter. It wasn't but it was her duty to ensure the security of her homeworld and she would accomplish it to the best of her abilities. Gesturing to her assistant, she was about to move away but halted when Langdon put out a hand.

"From which supplier did they claim to be?"

"Taiga Provisioners from Apen Enclave," she said after a quick low consultation with her assistant.

"Carry on," Langdon turned away, jerking his head at Briggs as he headed back to his office in stiff silence. A few minutes went by before he ventured a questioning gaze on Briggs.

"Deception," murmured Briggs immediately. "They ditched the shuttle at the first opportunity and used the populace as cover to hide and bide their time to carry out whatever they have in mind. If," he continued, "they didn't, then they are going to lie low until most of the heat has slackened off before proceeding to their intended destination. Scandi Enclave is the closest springboard to MZ2."

"Or they could be drawing our focus and resources away from whatever they're trying to hide elsewhere," frustration welled up in Langdon and he smacked his right fist into the palm of his left hand. "They have to be transporting something somewhere. Right now, we're trying to cover all possibilties, scrabbling half-blind, pushing the most obvious target and reacting defensively. We have no idea if anyone has a handle on the TI here or if they're just acting in their own interests. Our ignorance isn't going to help us in this conflict...," he paused for a moment, unpleasant visions passing before his eyes. "I'm afraid it's going to cost us dearly."

* * *

**Unknown Location, Alliance Medical Station**

The tines of the fork gleamed brightly under the light as it spun in the air, flying higher and higher. Abruptly, it halted before it reached the apex of its flight, twirling in place before slamming down beside a greasy sauce covered platter. The krogan grunted mildly and did not pause as his teeth worked and tore at a thick hunk of meat, oozing sauce and purplish-red blood, held in his hands. His eyes however looked steadily at the human seated across from him before moving to the fork. It twisted, worked its way out of the metal table before floating across to the human. It halted, trembling ever so slightly as an opposing force took hold of it. Frozen in midair, it hung, as if undecided on the path it should take.

At this, the others seated at the long table picked a fruit from their dessert bowls and floated their tokens to their intended bet. Two piles of fruit began to form before the competitors. Down at the head of the table, Miona chewed on her mouthful of thick stew of meat and greens, contemplating the contest between the human and krogan placidly. It was nothing more than a friendly sparring sport between compatriots who had suffered and fought together against Cerberus. To outsiders, it may seem more serious for the two were hardly looking affable; snarling and hissing. Especially more so when the krogan leant forward, his lips lifting to reveal rows of sharp teeth.

Without moving her gaze from the spectacle to the spy eyes in the canteen she wondered what the watchers would put down in their logs. Another dispute today at lunch? Or perhaps they would rate the level of biotic prowess on display. Marked down new behaviour patterns and assess the mental condition of the group? Typical and expected reactions from a medical group. What she was more concerned with however was their intentions. Although she had reached an agreement with the Alliance Admiral, there was no guarantee that the deal would be honored. The situation she and her compatriots were in were hardly the routine trade offs usually made on Omega.

A soft rumble beside her drew her attention to the man beside her. Though his cybernetic blue eyes could not convey much, the crinkles around his eyes, the gentle gestures he made clearly defined his meaning; she should finish her food before it grew cold. She never knew what was done to him but it eroded his ability to talk. As with most of the others. When the group was first formed, there had been many dicussions on what they should do to escape. How they could fight and survive. Such discourses had dwindled into nothing over the months until she was the only one left with any capability to speak. Despite the animal like noises they were reduced to, the intellect of her companions were not impaired. By then, they knew they had to stay together or die. Discussion was literally ineffectual under the circumstances they were in and they had elected to let her chose the course of actions they would take.

Survived they did and now they were sitting onboard an Alliance medical station. Waiting to see what would be done. Waiting to be unleashed. If the agreement was honored, they would all have the peace and the life they craved. In the mean time, they were given comfortable quarters and fed well. The evidence of it was in the ruddy cheeks of her companion, despite the dark streaks creeping past the collar of his clean suit. His wild dirty hair was now neatly cropped and there was less shadows beneath his eyes. Syrios, she called him though he had told her his name. Syrios because he had watched her back and saved her more than once, at risks to himself. They all did, for one another, but he seemed to make it a point on keeping track of her and he was a comfort to her in the times when she needed it.

Another nudge on the arm brought her back from her musings and she smiled when he mimed eating. The food they were given was good. Fresh, varied and suitably catering to different species in the group. Like the meat the Krogan was eating. She knew it for a fact it wasn't varren but kaejak, having worked for a time in a restaurant on Omega, a native species from one of several Krogan colonies. The Alliance could have just fed them EH-rations and paste, but they had taken the trouble to acquire staples that fit their dietary needs. It was gratifying though to her, it smacked of a form of bribe and pacification. Looking at Syrios's enjoyment of his steak, however, she was pleased that they had. She wished however, he had made use of the utensils they were given but none of them, other than herself, paid much attention to dining etiquette and used their hands to grab meat, greens and bread, slurping soup noisily from bowls.

A chorus of howls and jubilant snarls sounded from the middle of the table. The krogan growled happily as he swept up the piles of fruit while his human opponent only looked mildly disappointed at her failure to hold on to the prize. Her hand whipped out to snatch a peach from the fruit pile before the victor and she sent an impish grin his way when he grunted in annoyance. Snorting at her impudence, the krogan showed his teeth before turning to finish his meal. Laughing gravelly, Syrios turned to Miona, fingers flicking quickly on his omni-tool, he sent her a message. The omni-tools they were allowed were simplistic. More for communications and keyed to monitor their bio lifesigns but it did ease the difficulty of conversing with their minders.

She nodded at the question he sent her. A walk in the hydroponic gardens after lunch sounded good. Years trapped on a barren death soaked space station had spawned a desire to seek out the living. It also made her heart sick for Thessia. It had not been so when she left her homeworld. Then she was eager to taste what the universe could offer and now she had enough. Now she only wanted to go home. To nestle in the bosom of her family, her clan and breathe the life of her world. And perhaps...she hesitated as she looked at Syrios who sensed her disquiet. He grunted questioningly but she shook her head and quickly finished the remnants of her stew even as the group began to leave to the table. The next two hours were theirs to spend as they like before they returned to various tasks and classes the Alliance medical personnel had set up for them.

Just as she was about leave the table, the far door of the canteen opened to reveal an asari. One look was enough and her brows crinkled. Someone recognised the newcomer too and marched over to intercept her. A growl resounded, a flare of biotics before the asari spoke softly. With Patriarch's back to her, Miona did not hear what was said but the krogan seemed to pause. His head tilted to one side and he rumbled. A happy rumble, she realised, and then he was ambling over to the exit, holding something up to his eyes. A bottle. Syrios hovered protectively behind her as Aria approached. By then, the canteen was empty.

"Never thought I'd see the day you would back down from a fight," Miona said archly as the pirate queen came up to her.

Aria smiled mirthlessly. "Why fight when you can drink?" she eyed Syrios for a moment before examining Miona carefully. "I see you're doing well," she said, observing that the asari before her was fit and trim instead of gaunt and hungry. Dressed in a clean suit, she looked almost like any other asari. Almost.

"They treated us very well here but you did not come here to talk about that."

Aria flicked another glance at Syrios before looking meaningfully at Miona who stared at her steadily, ignoring the hint to send the human away. Nose wrinkling slightly at the messy cluttered canteen table, Aria cast her eyes over the room. No doubt it was bugged with all kind of sensors and the humans were watching and listening. No matter. They wouldn't understand a single word of what she was going to say.

"Have you given thought of where you want to go?" Aria eyed the security camera in the corner, the lens blatently directed at her.

Miona frowned, turning over the question. "Home. To Thessia," she followed suit, switching to the archaic orthoepy that the Asari never entered into the galactic translator. The humans could analyse all they want but they wouldn't be able to get a single letter of the language. "I have nowhere else."

"Then you are aware that you will return as an outlander," Aria turned when Miona made no reply. "You are no fool," she said sharply at the shuttered look on Miona's face. "Surely you know what you will face in your choice. Your clan would deny you their embrace."

It was what Miona feared and yet, she had hoped it might not turn out that way. To hear Aria speak of it so frankly, it swept away the wispy dreams she had been harboring. "That is not the only choice," she swallowed past a dry throat.

"No," Aria agreed. "You can choose to go with the others but it will make no difference. The group will not be allowed to remain as it is. Every person will be returned to their respective homeworlds, irregardless of their desires. The decision is already made," she continued as Miona made to speak. "Despite the agreement you made with the Alliance to fight Cerberus, it would take months to track them down. The Council do not see the benefits of keeping all of you onboard this station in the interim."

"Then let the Council set us a task that would give us what we ask," Miona fought to keep her voice even. Syrios fidgeted uneasily behind her, sensing her distress. A growl rumbled in his throat as he stared at Aria. "We are not slaves. After all we have suffered..."

"You are slaves...you are Cerberus experiments," Aria said brutally. "Enhanced biotics that would have been unleashed upon the populace in the war. All of you bear the marks of Reaper enhancements, none of you can return to what you once were. None of you will be accepted by your own once they see you. They will turn away in fear and regard you as nothing but an enemy. If the Council allowed all of you to remain together and hide you on a remote colony, none of you would ever leave. You will be abandoned to your fate. Nor would you be allowed to perpetuate the next generation."

"No!" shouted Miona. Snarling, Syrios leapt for Aria who flashed out a biotic throw so fast he couldn't avoid it. All her strength and power were behind it for she knew she had to put him down at once for a prolonged fight was not in her favor. It threw him high up against the wall, slamming him into it with such force that the wall was imprinted. As he slide down and slumped in a pile on the floor, Aria dodged the strike Miona directed at her and retreated quickly.

No one would be coming to check on the disruption in the canteen, no one would be coming to her aid. That had been the consensus when Admiral Hackett contacted her a few days ago in an update on the group. It was a risk she was willing to take in light of what he had told her. She barely dodged out of the way when Miona biotically charged at her. The speed in which she came at her was totally unlike anything she had ever encountered and so she had risked casting her mental net wide, seeking for the telltale signs.

"Killing me, killing everyone here will not change anything!" she shouted, skipping out of the way of a knife and was nearly pinned by a bench thrown at the same time. "I came to offer you a chance at life!"

"To be caged alone forever?!" returned Miona furiously, hands glowing as she gathered her energy.

"You will always be alone!" Aria tensed, preparing to throw up the strongest shield she could manage. "Miona...they're dying..."

"What are you talking about?" demanded Miona angrily.

"Have you never thought about why they lost their ability to speak? The enhancements they were given is slowly killing them, encroaching into their brains."

"Then I am dying too...," Miona looked down in dawning despair at hands that began to tremble. All that struggle to survive, it was all for nothing.

"You are not grunting, are you?"

Miona shook her head. "What are you saying? I'm different?"

"Perhaps. Miona...you can return to Thessia but you must be prepared to have your freedom constrained. For your own and for our people's protection," Aria shifted slightly, mellowing her tone. "The others will go home too, they will be allowed to live the remaining phase of their lives in peace. Would you not choose that for them than to have them eked out a miserable existence on some remote colony?"

"You lie," hissed Miona. "Even if they go home, they will be nothing more than living specimens for the scientists to play with."

"Do you trust Admiral Hackett?" Aria waited a moment but Miona did not answer. "I will tell you this, he has pushed for a signed treaty from all concerned parties before he will release any of you. There will be no surgical intrusion, no experiments. Only observation."

"Why would he do that?" Miona said suspiciously, unwilling to believe any one would go out that far to protect what could be potentially, his enemies.

"I would say the human has vast amounts of compassion," Aria watched Miona carefully. The glow around her hands had died down but she was wary about letting down her defenses. "To live in peace. That is what you, what your companions wanted, isn't it? No more fighting. To pick up the threads of your lives again. It can be done. It will be done. Let them go, Miona. Return to Thessia as you wanted."

"And do what?" laughed Miona bitterly. "I will be an outlander as you said."

"But protected. If you must know, there are a few choices that are available to you."

"What are they?" Miona muttered.

"I am not the one to speak to you about that."

Miona shifted indecisively. What was she to do? A low groan. She turned at the sound and bit her lips at the sight of Syrios. "What about...," she began tremulously. If they were all to return to their respective homeworld, what about Syrios?

Discerning her question, Aria readied herself. "He cannot go with you. Like the rest of them, he has very little time left. Though he may seemed fine, he isn't. Do you really want to bring him with you only to watch him die?"

"He will not allow me to..."

"Then you have to find a way to persuade him. Miona...," Aria waited for the other to match her gaze. "He will die, one way or another. Violently or peacefully. You have to choose."

Eyes blinking rapidly, Miona looked away as tears threatened to fall. Images ran riot as she remembered what they had gone through and she fought to contain them. With a shriek of anguish, she leapt at the table and smashed down into it. It broke in half even as bowls, plates and utensils flew into the air to scatter every which way.


	59. Chapter 59

**Crescent Nebula, Tasale System, Illium**

The chimes were soft, sounding out precisely at intervals. Barely audible even in the silence but a hand reached out to wave once before the sensor interface and the chiming stopped. Slipping out of bed, he headed for the bathroom and ran through a quick cleansing cycle. Back in the bedroom, he chose his outfit with care and dressed. Though the chronometer on the table declared it was near noon, he did not hurry. Nor did he bother to make himself a meal. Instead, he checked the message box on the table terminal and his lips twitched briefly at the message. A glance around the untidy room; nothing out of place. Satisfied, he exited through the front door, locking it behind him before making for the lift lobby.

The scenery outside the windows at the lift lobby was beautiful; a lush profusion of flora spread around the feet of towers, waving brightly in the sun. He paid not the slightest attention to it, nor did several others waiting for the lift. It wasn't real. Not with the modest location of the apartment, one among hundreds of others nestled in the common lower residential district of the business sector. There was nothing more than a vista of slate grey and splashed white facade of towers behind the projected image should one care to look. Despite the substitute, any one in search of lush real representations had only to step beyond the city walls.

With an air of distraction, he called up various xtranet pages on his omni-tool, stepping in automatically when the lift arrived. Leaning against the wall of the lift at the back, he seemed absorb in reading; head slightly bent, but his eyes flicked up to peruse his fellow passengers swiftly now and then before dropping down to the small screen. Lapping in soft waves against his ears was the murmur of conversation that he tuned in easily; bits and pieces of mundane driftwood. Smiling a little at the effort one of the passengers put into tempering his tone as he argued over a private comlink, he closed his omi-tool as the lift came to a stop and stepped out with purpose through the modest entrance lobby.

Outside, the little group melted into the larger whole of the populace. Some headed for the parking lot, a few turned for the public transport stop while the rest streamed across the large plaza. Though taking a skycar or one of the public mass transport vehicles would cut short his journey to ten minutes, he chose to traverse the distance on foot, stepping from one fast auto-walkway to another as he headed to the business sector. There was little need to scuttle for shade despite the glare of sunlight. By design, the rays was blocked out by towers and tinted glass artfully covering the entire plaza and opened areas across the city without impinging on the spread of flora.

Located in the higher polar latitudes of the planet, the local climes was cool, dispensing the need to enclose the populace in arcology housing. Occasionally, the weather would even turn chilly but not so today. It was a good day, he decided as he rested his eyes on his surroundings. The pace of the crowds was that perpetual to-ing and fro-ing of fluctuating speed, driven by varying needs and purposes. Aware of time trickling away and all too conscious that he would never taste such atmosphere again, he paused at a transfer pad to savour it; looking up at towers that seemed to reach into the clouds, the dizzying dance of shapes and colours, the bustle of people, the smell. Life. Sighing, he continued on his way.

Without realising it, he stepped aside even before he registered the sounds of heavy footfalls behind him on the moving walkway. Even so, his right shoulder was soundly buffeted and his eyes flicked up in annoyance to meet a challenging stare. Coldly, he fixed his gaze on the lower pair of eyes, daring the batarian to say something. Or do something. Maybe he would draw that pistol attached to his side. The batarian lowered his head but he knew better than to divert his gaze to the upper pair of eyes in a deliberate confrontation such as this one. That would give the batarian an even better excuse to start and finish with most of the cards at his end.

The batarian started violently forward and he leapt back a pace, hands balled up into fists, before realising that one of the batarian's companions was responsible for the threatening move when the batarian was jerked back at the same time. A low mutter and a punch to the chest and the batarian was shoved ahead of the group. An Onvent patrol squad, he realised, from their uniforms. The batarian threw him a parting scowl but moved ahead when prodded by presumbly the squad leader, a grizzle-hair scar-faced older man who spared him not a glance; he knew better than to allow one of his men to spark off an incident that might developed to a row among the Execs of Illium; a loose consortium that came about centuries after the Asari corporate leaders settled on Illium and formed the Illium Directorate.

Working hand in hand with those leaders, their far-reaching investments in materials and sapient trafficking made Illium into a vital entrepot between the Terminus Systems and the rest of the galaxy. They were also the reason most of Illium had survived the Reaper onslaught. The price in ensuring such an outcome had been huge; everything at their disposal in repelling the invasion. A large fleet was gathered, much credit was offered to draw in troops to defend the system. Recruitment for labour and essential sectors also increased. Every bit of ordnance and materials, proven or otherwise, was snapped up to provide teeth to take down the invasion forces. It was an act of desperation and a fight for survival. And it had worked. For a while.

Led by capable commanders who were able to determine the Reaper invasion force advancing into the Tasale System comprised of destroyers, not the dreaded capital ships from intelligence files shared by the allied forces. Prudent to the fact that the defense fleet would suffer heavy losses were they to confront the destroyers directly, they made every effort to destroy enemy transports as they approached. Manned and Gardian turrets took care of the ships that slipped through the perimeter. Ground troops made sure to eliminate any enemy husks that had survived the barrage. Such fierce resistance had ensured that none of the cities fell but everyone knew sooner or later, the destroyers would follow.

Come they did and would have made planet-fall on llium saved for a suggestion made by one commander that was deemed banal and ridiculous. For lack of any better plan, it was carried out and the heaviest fission bombs were scattered among the battle debris orbiting Illium. The bombs didn't kill off the destroyers, only creating sufficient damage to drain part of their shields. The defense fleet had then attacked, suffering tremendous losses before successfully forcing the reaper destroyers to retreat. To lick their wounds and recoup, everyone knew. More effort was made to churn up more ordnance in spite of sabotages by enemy agents. They were literally scrapping the bottom of the barrel for it meant stripping the vast warehouses and taking in anything the populace had to offer, and repair the surviving ships in the fleet.

More enemy troop transports arrived and were shot down. Then word filtered in that reaper capital ships were probably on the way. Those who could run had already gone, including some execs who gathered up whatever remaining profits they had left of their stocks. Those who chose to stay were determined to make the enemy pay for every inch of ground. He himself had volunteered to take up an empty post on one of the surviving ships and he was right there, on the bridge when the next wave of reapers arrived. He knew then there was no way anyone would live. The following hours had been terrifying. Ship after ship of the defense fleet was shot down. His own ship, _Blood Hawk_, in the right flank, had suffered heavy damage and was just as ready to go up should another bolt struck them.

He remembered the smell of fire and melted wires. The screams, the cries for help. The sweet stench of blood. The shrills of several alarms. The captain's voice shouting commands. A wailing cacophony of their impending doom. He stayed at his post, there was nowhere to run really and so he had heard the order to ram and he admired the captain for his bravado. But it was fitting. A last defiant spit in the enemy's eye. They would die standing tall and not cowering. He stood straight at his post, watching the holo-display as the icon of his ship headed for the nearest red tag and he took several deep breaths, conscious they were the last. Conscious of nearly everything around him as he silently chanted a cursing mantra at the enemy.

The next thing he knew, there was a sickening invisible wave that seemed to run through the deck and the ceiling was rushing at him. This was it, he thought. The end. And then he bounced off that surface to drop back down to the deck, hitting his head so hard that he blacked out. He went into that abyss willingly, grateful he was spared the agony of pain. When next he opened his eyes, it was to realise with a flash of dismay and panic that he did not die, that he was lying on a pallet in the small medbay of _Blood Hawk_. It took some time for the surroundings and a few factors to sink in.

One was that even though the few medical staff were busy, none of them looked upset. True, there were moans of pain, the smell of blood and medicines. They moved about hurriedly but with deliberate purpose, there was no extreme distress. The second was that he could hear laughter out in the corridor. The third was that the ship was not shaking, no alarms were blaring. Hardly daring to hope, he stopped a passing nurse to ask what was the noise about and could not credit what he heard; the reapers were destroyed. In disbelief, he shook his head, forgetting his head injury, and he passed out again from the pain.

The story, however much truth there was in it, filtered in as he recuperate in one of the hospitals on Illium. Word was that the allied forces had taken a gamble on ancient prothean weapon blueprints that offered a slim chance to remove the reapers. The weapon was built with the help of every able researcher that could be found. It was only after it was completed that it was discovered that the Citadel was essential to operating it, hence, they had taken the weapon to Earth and fought to reach the space station through overwhelming enemy forces. Much credit was given to Captain Shepard in reaching the control mechanism onboard the station and firing the weapon. Whether there was truth behind the assertion she was responsible, he was inclined to believe it was, it could not be denied that whatever was done had rendered every reaper inoperative.

Too, the _Blood Hawk_ had nearly joined their enemy's demise. Whatever energy that the weapon dispersed, had nearly sorted out the ship's systems that the captain, when he realised the reaper capital ship they were heading to had gone inert, ordered a course change and the helm failed to answer. The captain had then ordered port side airlocks flushed and all port sections evacuated, hoping the tiny impetus and the distance they had yet to cover would push the ship off course. It worked although the ship didn't escape without some serious scrapping along the port side and a hull breach. It didn't matter, what was more important was that they had survived and the galaxy was safe. They had another chance, to make it right.

A brush against his arm brought him abruptly back to the present and he looked around him with some confusion before realising he had missed his transfer point, continuing in the same direction would bring him to the spaceport. Stepping off at the next available point, he took another auto-walkway back and got off at the nearest exit that led to the restaurants. There were a few more patrol squads, almost lost in the crowd that streamed to and fro across the plaza, but staying clear of one another. Although public order remained the jurisdiction of the directorate, the TI threat brought about a negotiated agreement to use part of the exec security forces to bolster defense against this new enemy.

With much of their capital spent in the war, none of the execs who had remained were keen to start any controversy. Old or new, and had kept their forces on a tight leash. Their first priority had been to recoup their losses and their stimulant was one reason why the galactic economy had picked up its legs faster than any one had expected. It went without saying that they had been not entirely honest on the total extent of their holdings but what could one expect from such a group? Factories that had previously produced war materials began to churn out essential consumer goods and sold cheaply, alleviating the tight constraints imposed on the populace and reducing the level of discontent to the minimum. Of course, it also helped that the aftermath of the war also left behind a huge number of empty posts waiting to be filled.

Taking care to avoid running into any of the security squads, he strolled along leisurely, ignoring the constant but subtle flashes that swept over the crowd and turned in the direction of a familiar holo-sign, the Captains' Union, shining over a rather plain entrance of an enormous complex. The doors slide aside as he approached, revealing a crowd in the huge lobby. A motley mixture, most were wearing the uniforms of shipping companies with several in civvies. Smacked in the middle of the lobby was a rotunda with dozens of clerks busily attending to the hundreds of transactions, queries and needs of the merchant captains, ensuring smooth exchanges that made Illium the trading hub it was. Over their heads, names of ships gleamed on the large status board that tracked arrivals, departures of merchant vessels and merchandise that were available for trading.

Frowning worriedly, he studied the status board, moving to a spot where he would have a clear view, bringing up his omni-tool as he did so. The sudden clap of a heavy hand on his shoulder startled him and he turned to see a dark grinning face. So dark was the complexion it was a match for the black and yellow outfit the man wore.

"Well look who finally turn up! Greenacres."

"Knae, thought you'll be on the last leg to Horsy," he thumped his friend on the arm even as he pumped his hand heartily.

"Would have but Bluey thought to make a splash for the Citadel run before the route is rewritten so Yaerae took over my route on the _Misty_. I was on my way out when I saw you," rocking back and forth on his heels, Knae cocked his head at his friend, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "So where've you been for the last few weeks? What nefarious deals have you been dabbling in, eh? Care to share with an old mate?"

"Heh, I wish I had sealed a deal," Lance snorted in disgust. "Nah, I had to settle some family skeletons. You know how it is," he shrugged helplessly.

"Stella's at it again, eh?" Knae shook his head. "You're a shining example to this single," he snapped his fingers. "By the way, I got that email you sent before you dropped out of sight and sent out some feelers. Your billing's good. You know you're asking for a tough one, don't you? Riztik deals hard contracts and he's not one you can cut corners with. It's not a good call, Lance," he warned.

"I'm well aware of that," Lance said sombrely.

"Why don't you ask one from Bluey? She may be hard but she deals fair," Knae frowned when Lance looked away. "Or don't you trust me?" he said, surprised at the closed look on his friend's face and was somewhat offended.

"Don't be ridiculous, Knae," Lance turned back and looked at the other man steadily. "I would have taken it straight up on the bang the moment you offered it but Bluey doesn't have enough freighters. I've a few million tons of cargo sitting in the warehouses for the past month with the rentals eating into my credits. If I don't start shifting those cargo before the contract runs out, I'm liable to be charged for failing to deliver. Those missing freighters of mine aren't going to turn up and insurance isn't going to cover those losses. Not only that, I'm still waiting in line for the Citadel rubber stamp. I need a solution, right now."

Knae stared at him, troubled. "Lance, we sprang up from the same backwaters, we have each other's back since day one. There's nothing we can't work through," he said softly but persuasively.

"It's just a rough patch now. I'll be fine," Lance smiled, injecting confidence. "There are people depending on those cargo, I can't let them down. I just need ships to move the cargo and there's only one person who have those ships."

That wasn't strictly true. There were several others who owned quite a number of keels but in terms of constancy in service and crew, Riztik had an edge. Pursing his lips, Knae wondered if he should continue to pursue the issue and then decided to drop it. Lance had a stubborn streak, if he wasn't ready to talk then, he would when he felt like it. "As to that," he said,"there's some scuttlebutt that the Alliance found some hijacked freighters. I think one of them is _Bay City_ but I've no confirmation. It's worth checking out. If it's really_ Bay City_, they're likely to release the ship over to you since you own her keel plate."

"If they had, I would have heard something by now. As for releasing the ship, maybe they will, maybe they won't," he said hedgingly. "By the time all the paper work is done and I get a crew out to bring the ship here, I'm dead in the water. And that's not the worst," he added glumly. "What's worse is that they'll start thinking I've a hand in it. You know which way they would jump," he stared meaningfully at Knae who grimaced uncomfortably.

"I used to hold to that banner but that was before the war and the TI. Now," he snorted wryly, "now, I'm not going to blink at all the ground rules they're putting up. People make a lot of noise about toeing the lines but for all their screaming and gripping, they know other than the Alliance, there's nothing else out there they can trust that's going to keep them safe."

"The Alliance...or Shepard?" That came out a little sharper than Lance liked but he couldn't help it.

"C'mon Lance, Shepard can't be what she is today without the Alliance."

"Shepard can be what she is...she knows exactly what she wants," Lance's eyes narrowed. "And she always gets it."

"Let's not start on that again," Knae waved his hands defensively, recalling how a light conversation several months ago on Shepard had astonishingly turned into an intense debate. The subject of their old acquaintance had been mostly blithe whenever she hit the news over the last several years so he was at a lost to explain his friend's strangely contradictory statements. Looking now at Lance's pale face, he didn't think it was a good time to talk about it either. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, in the direction of the restaurants located at the back of the complex. "Look, Riztik's having grub at Jolly Green right now. I'll see if he's willing to talk."

"The day Riztik decides profit isn't worth his time is the day I retire to the outer reaches," Lance said drolly, drawing a chuckle from Knae who trotted off. The smile dropped from his face the moment Knae disappeared in the crowd. Heaving a sigh, he pretended to peruse the status board even as he sorted through the memories that floated before his eyes and indecision gripped him. Should he or shouldn't he? The question twirled in his head and he jerked in startlement when Knae's voice came to him as if from a long distance.

"Lance...Lance!" Knae stared at him anxiously when his friend's cloudy grey eyes finally turned to him. "Are you sure you're fine with this?"

"Fine with it? No but I don't have a choice, do I? Don't worry," he patted Knae's arm assuringly when his friend frowned at him, "Riztik isn't going to score one over me."

"You want me to...," began Knae, deciding he should accompany his friend to the negotiations even though his ship would miss its spot in the departure queue.

"It's not going to be settled fast and I'm not going to land you in trouble with Bluey if you missed your schedule. Go on," he urged when Knae didn't move. "I'll let you know how it turns out. I swear," he intoned solemnly, placing his hand over his heart.

"Alright, if he shoots you a leaky fast one, you go to Bluey," Knae said insistently, mentally making a note to send a message to his boss to help him keep an eye on Lance. "And the next choice waterhole is on you so you better make it a good one."

"Count on it," Lance returned Knae's wave and watched him disappeared into the crowd with much regret. There was so much he wished he could share with his old friend, like times of old. He would really miss him.

* * *

**Thessia**

The atmosphere wasn't exactly frigid or choleric, merely polite. Gracious, if she wanted to be generous. Shepard took care not to look in Hannah's direction as she paced slowly around the office, wishing for the umpteenth time that her mother didn't have to come to the appointment. A glance at Liara who sat opposite Hannah, eyes closed. Probably meditating, as per the obstetrician's orders. Or perhaps she was simply tired of looking at the both of them. In her shoes, she would.

Turning her eyes away, Shepard took in the little touches that defined a simple but spacious office. An asari as old as Telienos would have garnered a hundred commendations but there was no wall of plaques to reflect those achievements. Instead, there was only a single large picture of an ethereal scenery, rather mythical, that covered the wall next to the desk. A few holo-displays on top of a low cabinet along the opposite wall and a silver lesew flute resting on intricate hooks above it. It had a worn air about it and she wondered if it belonged to Telienos, who wasn't in the office. That was mostly her fault. Too jittery and anxious to think of anything else, despite Liara's efforts to distract her, she had decided to go to the appointment early. Expecting to be shown a waiting room, Telienos's assistant had shown them into the office instead. Perhaps the asari had anticipated her impatience.

At the windows behind the desk, she paused, looking over the wintry garden. The anticipated cold had arrived, stripping everything bare and laying about a carpet of white. It would be her third winter on a planet she was coming to think of as her own. She was looking forward to spend most of it looking after Liara and resumed training the recruits. Hopefully, the old man would desist throwing something her way. Getting caught between conflicting duties was not she wanted to be mired in during Liara's critical period. Something shifted in the garden and she frowned as she stared at the couple walking along the path. Was that...? Was this where he had been disappearing to during the day? She wondered what Javik had to discuss with Telienos; they seemed to be deep in conversation.

As softly and silently as she could, she dropped into the couch beside Liara. A quick glance at Hannah who was withdrawn and she clasped her hands together, thumbs rubbing against each other. Telienos would not reach her office any time soon so she tried to straighten her roiling thoughts as she closed her eyes only to open them again. Restlessly, she shifted, her gaze finally coming to rest on the mythical picture in which a woman was depicted sitting beneath a waterfall, streams of water falling from her outstretched hand. Was this Athame? Several smaller companions around her were either looking on attentively or reaching for the water. Another closer look and she realised that there were subtle nuances on their faces and postures. There were minute objects scattered around too, now that she was really looking at the picture, with intriguing hues glittering in the light. It didn't look like a holo-picture. Painted?

Telienos's voice caught her by surprise and she looked up to see the asari walking to the armchair opposite her. Beside her, Liara stirred and opened her eyes. Hannah straightened in her seat.

"My apologies, I had to attend to another matter."

_As in Javik?_ Catching hold of that thought before it could slip out, Shepard said instead, "I'm afraid I jumped the gun."

Telienos understood the gist of that statement though she had never heard of it. "As would anyone in your situation," she smiled. "Rest assured that there is no device recording this conversation. Whatever is said here," she looked at Liara and Hannah, "will only be shared among those who are germane to this issue. The outer office is locked, my assistant will not return unless I call for her. Besides the fact," she continued, seeing Shepard's surprise, "that you are my patient, the less known about the Cipher, the less fodder there is to feed circulating rumours. Given the current tumultous state of galactic affairs, further complications can be avoided."

"No dissent from me," Shepard said fervently, relieved.

"I agree," said Hannah. Liara only nodded.

"Then, Shepard, to fully grasp the event that changed your life and brought you to the situation that occurred on Ilos, you should start at the beginning," said Telienos. "No doubt, you would not have recounted everything that had happened in your official report."

"No," Shepard shook her head. "I only stated I found a clue to Saren's whereabouts. The only people who knew were those whom I have taken with me to the Thorian's lair beneath Zhu's Hope."

"And they were?"

"That will be Liara, Garrus Vakarian and Kaidan Alenko. The rest of the squad, under the command of Ashley Williams, were stationed above ground and did not witness the event."

"Vakarian and Alenko have your implicit trust?"

"Major...Alenko died in the war. Garrus always have my back," Shepard said firmly.

"I understand," Teleinos said softly. "Please, recount what happened."

Clasping her hands together as she gathered her thoughts, Shepard thought back to that day. "Feros was under attack by geth forces so we went there in hopes of finding clues to Saren's whereabouts, given his affiliation with the geth. What we found at the same time was that ExoGeni Corporation were illicitly conducting experiments on unsuspecting colonists when they discovered the Thorian beneath the colony."

"What is this Thorian?" asked Hannah.

"A plant like sentient creature that hibernated for thousands of years before waking up to gather resources for its next sleep cycle. How old it was, I've no idea, but it existed long before the time of the Protheans. The company allowed the Thorian to make thralls of the colonists in order to study it."

"What kind of effect did it have on the colonists?" Telienos said.

"Through the spores it spread, it gained control over the populace. They were able to function normally but compelled to carry out whatever tasks the Thorian had in mind. Their behaviour was erratic when we asked questions and they were evasive when we tried to ferret out the reason behind the geth attacks," thumbs twiddling, Shepard shifted on the couch, feeling somewhat uncomfortable and felt Liara's hand on her arm. It settled her.

"Did they try to fight against the compulsion?" said Telienos.

"A few did and it gave them a lot of pain for their defiance. But the few stubborn ones who continued to fight to get the warning across...," Shepard paused as something chimed softly. Telienos looked down at her omni-tool. "We have one more person joining us, excuse me," she got up from her chair and exited the room.

"I thought we are the only ones to know about this matter?" Hannah was puzzled.

"No, there is another," Liara patted Shepard's arm and felt her start of realisation.

"You called her?" Shepard grasped her bondmate's hand, feeling the warmth of assurance flooding in.

"No but she has to be here if we are to understand what had been done."

Even before the door opened, Shepard could feel her approaching presence. The last time she felt it, was on Illium. Then, it was strangely fluctuating and wavering, unlike the surge of beating energies on Feros. Even now, it was different. Tasted different. Startled, she looked at Liara who stared back wordlessly. The door hissed open and Telienos stepped in with someone. Shepard got up with Liara and looked across the room at a familiar purple hued face.

"Hello Shepard," Shiala smiled at her.


	60. Chapter 60

**Author note - I did this half zonked out most of the time. Apologies if it doesn't make any sense. Probably would revise it if I get a lot of coconuts. :P**

* * *

**Thessia**

The soft hiss of Liara's sharp drawn breath broke Shepard's bemused scrutiny of the newly arrived asari as Telienos introduced Shiala to Hannah. Startled, she glanced at her bondmate's shuttered face which offered no clue as to what she was thinking. Nothing was leaking through their link either but something was obviously bothering her.

"I'm sorry but how are you...involved?" Hannah's polite query brought her gaze back to Shiala.

"All in good time, Admiral," cut in Telienos smoothly before Shiala could answer. "Shall we continue?" she said, gesturing for everyone to take their seats. Warily, and relieved that Shiala was seated next to a suspicious Hannah on the second couch out of her direct line of sight, Shepard sat down, feeling strangely at odds. "You were saying about the colonists at Zhu's Hope, Shepard?"

"Only that very few of them put up much resistance to the Thorian's demands but from those who did attempt to warn us, we knew there was something else other than the geth attacks that was ailing the colony," Shepard concentrated in pulling up those memories. "We learnt the truth from one of the ExoGeni researchers we rescued at the facility and went to search for the creature after removing most of the geth presence."

"And it was under the colony?" Hannah frowned when Shepard nodded.

"From company records we pulled later, the site was chosen as most of the prothean aqueducts were relatively intact and several of the ruins were deemed safe. ExoGeni's main objective was to find prothean artifacts so most of the recruited colonists had specific related skills," anticipating further questions, Shepard continued. "Total deployment were a couple of hundred civilians. Most of which fell to the unexpected geth attacks. By the time we arrived, there were less than a hundred left."

"And all of them were thralls?" Hannah interjected again.

"The exposure had been widespread, wth the exception of the company researchers, most of their staff and security detail. When ExoGeni realised the first exploration team to the lower levels were infected, they deliberately exposed the rest to the spores. The prime mover behind this was the former Spectre Saren Arterius, a major shareholder in ExoGeni," Shepard's eyes flicked to Shiala, meeting her gaze before dragging them away to Telienos as she spoke.

"What would be the reason behind this motivation?"

"I believe he was trying to understand the effects of long term indoctrination, possibly explore ways to circumvent the influence even as he was carrying out Sovereign's orders to find another way to undermine the lock placed by the protheans..."

"Lock?" interrupted Hannah. "What lock?"

"The few protheans who survived the previous reaper war returned to the Citadel when they realised it was a mass relay that opened to dark space," Shepard said carefully, reining in her impatience. Did Hannah have to ask so many questions? "The zone the reapers retreated to after every cycle to hibernate. They would leave a sentry behind to keep an eye on galactic developments and when the time was right, the sentry or Sovereign, would trigger the relay. Sending a signal to rouse the reapers. Their first attempt in this cycle failed because the surviving protheans, having found the method in which the reapers would deploy, placed a lock to block out the signal. Through its agents, Saren especially, Sovereign discovered or inferred the reason for its failure and tried to find another way to gain access to the Citadel to operate the relay."

"And that would be...?" Hannah prodded when Shepard fell silent.

"Sovereign probably learnt about the Conduit from prothean artifacts," Shepard looked at Shiala but the asari remained silent. "Saren used his connections, both as spectre and shareholder in several investments like ExoGeni, Binary Helix to name a few, to ferret out every bit of data and found references to the Conduit. Even then, they had no idea what it was. Only that it possibly had something to do with the lock on the Citadel, so they tracked down every prothean artifact and colonies to find out more about it. When Saren heard about the prothean beacon on Eden Prime, he went there to gain information from it. I...suspect he had already found one before."

"He did not," said Shiala. "He did come across a few prothean artifacts that contained visual information and it was from these initial contacts that he realised that there could be others that survived long enough to contain viable information. However, due to degradation over time, the message transmitted by the beacon left confusing images he was unable to resolve. It would have remained so, possibly ending in impasse for a prolonged period but for the discovery of the Thorian."

"How so?" said Hannah.

"The signs of sentience and the great age of the creature that pointed to its existence during the time of the protheans," said Shiala. "Saren had hoped it would have knowledge of the protheans that would help him understand the images and chose to speak to it. The Thorian initially was not cooperative until a deal was struck."

"What sort of deal?' Hannah's frown deepened when the asari halted. Why on earth were they staring at each other like that?

"I was given over to the Thorian in exchange for information..."

"What? What did you say?" Hannah was sure she had misheard. "You were working with Saren?! How...?"

"I was once a student of matriarch Benezia T'Soni."

"T'Soni...T'Soni," Hannah muttered bemusedly, then as realisation struck, turned to Liara.

"My mother, yes," Liara nodded impassively. "She was a renown teacher of religion and philosophy and many flocked to her to learn from her."

"She was a notable luminary who wished to create a beneficial dominion for everyone to grow in," Shiala said quickly. "Saren had a brutal reputation though he was held in esteem by the Council. He achieved results through calculating ruthlessness and this was troubling to Benezia. When rumours about his conduct became more pernicious, she felt he was veering on a destructive course that would culminate in disaster, she sought him out to try to turn him to a more gentle path. Unwisely as it turned out but then, who knew that the ship we entered was a reaper?"

"You...stepped into a reaper?" Hannah was horrified.

"Though the ship was unlike any we had ever seen, we had no reason to suspect it was not what it seemed. Despite...the ominous presence we sensed," a slight shiver passed through Shiala as she recalled that moment. "Benezia was determined to continue on her course. He was courteous when he received us and pretended to be receptive. He persuaded Benezia to remain as a guest so as to 'learn' amd exchange ideas with her. Over the next months, she and those who went with her, were gradually indoctrinated. We came to believe in his cause; that we were on a mission to save the galaxy. Benezia became his closest ally, bringing him more resources to use. I was with him when he spoke to the Thorian. When he proposed the exchange, me for the information, I...I was willing and did not...resist when the Thorian accepted."

Shepard blinked when an image flicked before her eyes; a strange looking cocoon with twisting vines within, before it abruptly vanished. Was that..? Beside her, Liara stirred and she wondered if she received the same image as well. She frowned at Shiala who did not return her stare.

Hannah made to speak and halted when Telienos raised a hand. "How was this done?"

"The fastest way, was through melding. I...," Shiala blanched slightly, "the Thorian had merged much of itself with the planet, spreading out many sensory tendrils and cocoon-like neural nodes. To make direct contact, I removed my armor and entered one of the sub nodes, and passed on the information I received to Saren who left soon after. It seemed then he would honor the exchange but later, the geth launched an attack on the colony."

"On Saren's orders?" said Hannah.

"Yes. To prevent my finding the Thorian since he knew, from his contacts, I received the same message from the beacon on Eden Prime and would follow in his footsteps," Shepard shrugged. "Even if I had not, pursue was inevitable. If not by me, then someone else. By the time I spoke to the Thorian, it was enraged by Saren's betrayal and refused further dialogue."

"I presumed that was when it attacked?" said Telienos.

"Yes," Shiala nodded. "It was able to create replicas of myself with limited forms of biotics and used those in conjunction with other creatures that spewed acid. But Shepard was able to kill it by destroying all the central nodes. I was freed, after its death."

"Why didn't Saren kill it immediately after he had gotten what he wanted?" said Hannah.

"To negotiate in good faith, he could not appear with a large force," said Shiala patiently. "Moreover, the attack came as soon as he left Feros but it was met with resistance from the human thralls and its creatures. Eventually, it would have succumbed as its resources were limited, having used them in its recent hibernation."

"Meaning if the geth had not attacked, or if it had defeated the geth and I had arrived much later, I wouldn't have even gotten into its lair," Shepard said with dawning realisation.

"No," agreed Shiala, a soft light in her eyes. "You and your people would have been lured into a trap and subdued or killed. Your arrival was timely and fortunate."

"Shiala...," Telienos leaned forward, her gaze intensed on the asari. "What was it like, linked to the Thorian?"

"It...I don't know how to describe it, Vesae," closing her eyes as she recalled her experience, Shiala shook her head slowly. "It's like looking into a deep encompassing ocean of many images, colours and sounds...everything seemed...I...it is difficult to put into words. It was so large that my mind shrank from trying to grasp all of it at once. It was all I could do to retain my sanity and sense of self."

"How then, did you find the information Saren wanted?" said Telienos.

"I did not, " Shiala said simply. "The Thorian sent it to me."

"Then it was not what you found but data specifically chosen by the Thorian," Telienos said, wanting to be sure. "What did you do, during your time as a captive of the creature?" she said when Shiala nodded.

"I...explored its memories...carefully," said Shiala, eyes clouded, "as I feared retaliation but the Thorian was mostly amused by my feeble curiosity because I was a thrall who would cease to exist as an individual eventually. The other was...indulgence that I could even understand it at all. Nevertheless, it allowed me the freedom to extract as I would, so I started with what I've learnt from the transfer...the cultural memories of the protheans it had absorbed in the previous cycle."

"How much have you acquired by the time Shepard arrived?" said Telienos.

"Not much, I'm afraid," Shiala said regretfully. "Within the Thorian, I had no sense of time, only a vague awareness of its thoughts and emotions as it dealt with the outside world. There was so much about the protheans, I doubt I would have been able to finish that singular tiny portion of its memory by the time I'm absorbed. And there were hundreds more to discover," she said wistfully.

"Shiala..," Telienos caught the asari's gaze. "The information you gave to Saren. Was it the same one as the Cipher you gave to Shepard?"

The question took Shepard by surprise. Was it different? Why would Telienos suspect it would be different? Beside her, Liara tensed as Shiala remained silent.

"No."

"What?!" Shepard spluttered, dimly hearing Hannah echoing the same disbelief even as her jaw dropped. She turned red then paled. "What do you mean it's different?!" she rocketed up from the couch even as Telienos got to her feet to intervene, if necessary.

"Different as in...I gave you a lot more than what was given to Saren," said Shiala evenly. "What I gave to you, not only did it contain what the Thorian had given to Saren, within it was every data I assimilated after."

"Did you know ...," began Shepard hotly.

"I know," Shiala cut in sharply. "The memory capsule I found..."

"Why did you have to give that to her?!" Hannah interrupted. "Did you know it..."

But Shepard had had enough of Hannah's constant queries. "Admiral, stay out of this," she ignored Hannah's affronted glare. "_Why_?"

Shiala stood up. "You were going after Saren, you wanted the same thing he was after; the ability to decipher the beacon messages," she paused a few feet from Shepard, meeting her anger calmly. "I touched the memory capsule and understood what it represented. A storage of intact memories that spanned more than 150 prothean cycles. It was a hundred times more than what the Thorian had given Saren. I wanted to help so I gave you everything I knew. Because, it was not just Saren you needed to stop, you have to stop Sovereign as well. A reaper no one had ever encountered or fought before in this current cycle. From what I touched briefly of the capsule, I knew the protheans had anticipated this enemy and there was a chance those memories could help."

"Why did you not clearly explain what you did then?" said Liara.

"Although I was freed and achieved free will, I was still entangled within the effects of the spores," Shiala said without taking her eyes off Shepard. "Combined that with the mind meld, I was not that clear headed. You were affected too, if I remember. Neither of us were in any shape to think of much except for the immediate crisis before us. You asked what you needed to know and I answered as best I could for it was clear you wished to continue your pursuit of Saren, fearing he would accomplish whatever it was he intended." Stepping closer, she looked searchingly at Shepard. "Tell me, was I wrong?"

It hovered on Shepard's tongue to say that she was but could not. Not when the Cipher had aided her again on Feros, allowing her to understand the prothean vids and acquiring the key combinations to unlock Javik's cryopod. Nor would she have found the mainframe on Ilos without it. Conflicting emotions warred and she didn't know what to say though her anger ebbed away beneath that clear honest gaze.

"Did you know the risks involved in giving that to Shepard?" said Telienos, standing behind Shepard.

"Even befuddled as I was, I knew," apology glinted in Shiala's eyes. "And I knew if Saren succeeded, all was lost."

"What risks?" demanded Hannah. "No, I want to know," she insisted when Shepard muttered.

Telienos touched Shepard lightly, indicating she should sit down and gestured to Shiala, waiting until they had settled into their respective couches. "Most asari are born with abilities. Mind melding, biotics to name a few," she said. "Even before we learned to communicate, we were already using these talents. Untamed. Unchecked. Thereafter, as we developed further, many things changed. Through many trials and tremulous events in our history, it transpired that the asari must established disciplines to better control these abilities. The most important aspect of all," she glanced at Shiala, "is to protect one's consciousness from intrusion. The idea of a barrier, mental defense, was developed. And this is one training we gave to our young, that they would be able to protect themselves. The humans," she turned to Shepard, "have no such training because they have no need to. They don't have any mind melding capability."

"So you're saying we can't defend ourselves?" Hannah was not sure if she could believe the asari.

"You have natural defenses but you have no conscious control. It's instinctual and that is a fragile shield to wield," said Telienos. "From what you have told us," she looked at Shiala, "you were in direct contact with the Thorian, right up until you were freed. Unlike the other colonists who were controlled by its spores."

"Yes," Shiala nodded.

"Do you see the difference?" Telienos turned to Hannah who frowned.

"You're saying her training saved her," she said.

"Or she would have been subsumed or lost her sanity within the Thorian's mind," said Telienos. "But she didn't and was able to retrieve an important artifact," she paused for a moment, clasping her hands before her. "An artifact that she then gave to someone who was not trained or had any experience to handle it. Such cases had happened before among our people and some of it had not turned out well."

"What do you mean?" said Hannah edgingly.

"It was fatal for some. For the others, their minds were forever lost."

"You...took such a risk? You gambled with her life?" Hannah was incredulous as she stared at Shiala. "Who gave _you_ the right to do that?"

Pot calling kettle black! "Don't be ridiculous, admiral," Shepard sighed tiredly. "You, of all people, should know how the cards are played in extreme contingencies."

"Not when it comes to you..."

"I can't believe..."

"Please." Shepard didn't know how Telienos did it but the air seemed to calm with that single word. "Clarity is of outmost import." After a beat, she continued. "Shepard, did the artifact actively seek contact with you?"

"No. It seemed to work passively, giving me information whenever there are prothean data to decipher."

"You initiated contact."

"Yes."

"How did you feel after the transfer of the Cipher?"

"Having my mind jammed with strange stuff didn't leave me feeling any good," Shepard shrugged nonchalantly, "but it was not as bad as the first encounter with the prothean beacon. I still could not make any sense out of the beacon images, so Liara offered to help. She tried but it was too confusing. There were bit and pieces missing. It was only on Virmire that we found the second beacon. I used it and it was only then that we were able to determine what the images were conveying."

"Shepard...," Telienos's tone soften. "You didn't answer my question."

Avoiding the older asari's gaze, Shepard rubbed her brow. "I...had dreams."

"Nightmares?"

Shepard shook head. "Before. When I initially received the message from the first beacon, I had nightmares. They were the same. Almost...every night," she rubbed her eyes as flashes of those nights returned. "After Feros...I still had dreams, but oddly muted. As if, I was far away, as an observer."

"And after Virmire?"

"The same. After the Battle of the Citadel, the dreams seemed to disappear."

"Seemed to?"

"They would appear now and then, in the next several months. Then...," Shepard hesitated. "Then I was...the Normandy was attacked by the Collectors. Most of the crew survived..."

"But you did not."

"What?!" Hannah was stunned. Beside her, Shiala paled. "That's not possible. You said..."

"Cerberus retrieved my body, with Liara's help. Liara was the only one who did not give up on me," Shepard said heavily. "She had to hand my body over to them because they said they could revive me. I don't know how...by rights, I was dead," she reached out for Liara's hand and was comforted by the presence that flowed into her. "According to a few records we found on Cronos Station, I was not totally brain dead by the time Cerberus reached me. That was impossible, given the circumstances in which I died. We can only speculate, from a visit to the prothean archives on Ilos, that the Cipher somehow...sustained my cerebrum."

"Why...why did you never...," began Hannah.

"It's not important."

"From the time of your revival," Telienos said hurriedly before Hannah could lash out, "which I understand, took two years from the point of your retrieval, to the end of the reaper war until recently, did the nightmares recur?"

"...yes," Shepard said reluctantly.

"Stronger? More regularly?" Telienos paused for a moment when Shepard nodded. "Besides the requisite medical and psych examinations in the Alliance, you did not actively seek any psychological consultations."

"None except for a few visits to a counselor here."

Shepard watched warily as Telienos returned to her armchair. Surely bad dreams couldn't be the cause of her coma? Her head seemed to buzz and she shook it briefly.

"Perhaps, to you, there seem to be no analogy between the Cipher and the nightmares," said Telienos. "The artifact is quiescent and does not interact with you until you need it. The nightmares began when you received the beacon images. But in your case, both are interlinked."

Shepard's heart seemed to still. "What do you mean?"

"There are several factors that intensified over the years that led to the problem you faced weeks ago. The major cause is your inability to defend your central self. That handicap was partially handled by an expedient provided by two persons. Shiala and Liara."

Blinking in bemusement, Shepard shifted forward. "I don't understand."

"It is our custom and discipline to protect the other person with whom we meld with by providing a temporary cover or buffer. It is usually removed once the meld is over. However, both of them recognised the problems you would be facing despite your strength of will and provided such a shield. In your case, it's a more...permanent measure."

Shepard's gaze whipped to Liara before darting to Shiala. Why hadn't they say anything to her? To her surprise, neither of them met her eyes. Both chose to examine some obscure point in the room.

"But..," said Telienos, drawing Shepard's attention back to her, "even then, the barrier could not withstand the psychological pressures that had building up within. It was unraveling slowly until it finally broke down on Ilos. You were lost...within the Cipher. Merging with the memories and it almost cost you your life."

Questions floated to the fore but Shepard suddenly found she could not move lips that suddenly felt stiff. A pair of hands came to cover her own cold limbs.

"Your case presented quite a quagmire and there were but a couple of options. The more drastic suggestion was to try to cut you out, akin to surgery."

"What would happen if that was done?" said Shiala.

"If it failed, it would leave Shepard severely handicapped, mentally and physically," a glint of sadness flickered into Telienos's eyes before vanishing. "But we decided to go the normal course and that was to meld with you. Liara wanted to do it but her pregnancy ruled her out. We could not risk the infant."

Relief washed over Shepard when she heard that. Then she stiffened. Who then had melded with her? Not Hannah?

Reading the question in her eyes, Telienos nodded. "Admiral Shepard also objected to Liara's attempt on the grounds that you might not even believe her, despite her being your bondmate, due to your fear of indoctrination. That the reapers would use the one person you trusted the most to convince you to do their will." She sighed when Shepard went white. "Your mother volunteered to try but she had no training or ability to meld."

"Then...it was you," said Shepard.

"Yes," Telienos leaned forward. "How do you feel now?"

"I...feel fine."

"No dreams since you woke up."

"None."

"That is because _I_ am shielding you," said Telienos softly. "I created it the moment you withdrew from the Cipher."

"Then...," Shepard hesitated, struggling to put jumbling thoughts together.

"It is not meant to sustain you forever," said Telienos bluntly. "Shepard, you have a myriad of problems and questions that must be resolved before we can go about finding a permanent solution. Otherwise, this incident will happen again."

Shepard seized on that eagerly. "There is a solution?"

"Yes, there is," Telienos sat back with a sigh. "This session is ended. I hope that we have all come to a common point of perception concerning the Cipher and the cause of Shepard's coma," she waited for a moment but Hannah said nothing though her face was dark. "There is still much discuss on this matter. I will see you again. Only you two days from now. Until then, you should take the time to reflect, _perceive_ the maze that you have to negotiate," she said meaningfully before showing them out of the office.

The sun was setting, Shepard saw when they reached the carpark. Droves of off duty personnel and office workers moved in unison to return home and other leisure, flooding the concourses. The sky, thick with skycars.

"Are you staying...," Shepard turned to Shiala, thinking of sending her to her hotel or perhaps her own home.

"She is staying with us," said Liara, moving carefully into the back seat as Hannah rounded the back of the skycar silently and slide in beside her.

"Oh...," Shepard blinked in befuddlement before dropping into the driver's seat. Smoothly, she started the skycar and inserted it into the mainstream traffic, resolutely focusing on driving though she was acutely aware of Shiala seated next to her. Despite the distraction, she drove carefully, keeping to a moderate speed. There was no way she was going to speed around like a demon with Liara onboard. The approval on Effia's face when they arrived sedately at the T'Soni estate more than made up for the silent brooding atmosphere in the vehicle.

Dinner was ready but no one had any desire to sit down at the communal table, it seemed. Murmuring excuses, Shiala disappeared into the guest room. Hannah simply marched off without a look in anyone's direction. Shepard didn't much care she was upset or extremely upset. Her main concern was Liara, who looked somewhat pinched. She shepherded her bondmate into their bedroom, wetting a towel to cool Liara's face as she rested on the bed.

"You alright? You didn't say much," she did another swipe over Liara's brow.

"I am fine," Liara touched Shepard's face gently. "You have to speak to Shiala."

"Uh...sure. I suppose I have to thank her for...shielding me," Shepard said uncomfortably, rising to return the towel to the bathroom but was stopped by a hand on her arm.

"Not only that. More than that. Do not put it off."

"Don't I have to buy her a gift or something? To show my gratitude?" Shepard said jokingly and blinked when Liara shook her head gravely.

"Did you not _hear_ what Telienos said?"

"What?" a frown creased Shepard's brow. Why was Liara so insistent? A tap on the door brought Effia and a tray with two large bowls into the room. "Here, put something inside you, you'll feel better," said Shepard, arranging the tray carefully between them as the housekeeper left. "Look, it's your favourite stew," she picked up her own spoon.

"Shepard, do it tonight."

"What...," Shepard put down the spoon. "What's so important?"

"Because you must speak to her."

"Oh for crying out loud...fine," Shepard wished Liara hadn't chosen to be so cryptic. If she had wanted to say what she meant, she would have. And her barrier was up too so she had no idea what her bondmate's real agitation was about. "I promise I'll talk to her...after dinner. Now will you please start eating?"

Disturbed, she watched as Liara ate, sensing that she was forcing herself to. As she was herself. Liara's perculiar insistence had managed to chase off her appetite. The stew was good but she barely tasted it as she polished it off automatically and then removed the tray once Liara was done. Another quick swipe with the towel and she sat quietly beside Liara as she lay silently on the bed. Watching her as she closed her eyes, hands resting over her swollen belly. Gently, she smoothed her hand over the belly. It would be another few weeks more before the awakening. When they would rouse the child within. She wondered if she would be allowed to participate.

Realising that Liara had fallen asleep from her soft breathing, Shepard debated joining her and then sighed. A promise was a promise. Shutting the bedroom door behind her, she went downstairs to an empty hall. Biting her lower lip, she turned in the direction of the guest rooms. As she neared Shiala's room, she stopped and turned instead to the back gardens. Her hand reached for the door. It would be cold out there. Would anyone even go out? Almost unthinkingly, she turned down a corridor and opened the door to the hothouse. The lush warm of flora hitting her in the face. Pulling the door closed, she moved slowly down the aisle, ducking long reaching fingers of leaves.

She spied the figure alongside a row of preita flowers. "Shiala." She didn't know why she was so certain it was Shiala but the asari turned, proving she was right.

"Shepard," Shiala didn't seem surprise to see her.

"Uh...," Shepard ran a hand through her hair, wondering why she was suddenly dumbstruck. "I..uh...nice flowers, aren't they?" she said lamely, wanting to kick herself. Whatever was wrong with her? Her tongue seemed tied up in knots.

"Yes, they are," said Shiala without looking at said item. "Liara sent you."

"Um...yes but uh, I also want to see you...want to thank you. For what you did."

A sad smile tilted Shiala's lips. "Did you?"

"What?"

"Do you know what I did?"

Shepard wondered if the heat of the hothouse was getting to her. Or was it the intense gaze Shiala was fixing on her. On Illium, the vibes she got from Shiala was confusion and despair intermixed with restraint gratitude and a mite of invitation that she had come to associate with asari. Now, she felt a strange sense of deja vu at the beating whirl of desires. Where. Where had she experienced it before?

_Liara. On Normandy. With Liara. You remember. The interlude before Virmire._

_No. What..you..._

Shocked, Shepard stumbled backwards as Shiala approached.

_It can't be!_


	61. Chapter 61

**Words of note**

**CVHA - commercial vessel holding area**

**DTS - debris trajectory surveillance**

* * *

**Local Cluster, Earth, Citadel**

The tiny sound was barely audible over the low hum in the passageway. Focused on the readouts on the power relay monitoring panel, Westir did not realise there was someone else with him until something hit his left shin. Looking down, he was startled to see a pair of equally surprised eyes in a small face. Before he could react, whoever it was scooted back into the vent.

"It can't be...shit!" Westir cursed, dropping down to his knees at once to look into the air vent. Hexagon in shape, it was a quarter of his height and large enough for him if he were all waist. Pulling the vent cover further apart, he directed his torch down the tunnel. A pair of boots disappeared round the corner as he did so. "Damn it...hey! Come back!" he yelled into the tunnel, hearing echoes of his voice bouncing down the tube. "Come back, it's not safe to stay down there!"

He waited a beat but he knew he would not be heeded. Frustrated, he sat back, letting the vent cover fall shut. Whoever it was, would not return. Heaving a sigh, he dug into one of pouches at his belt and brought out a tiny voicecorder in the shape of a rabbit. Flicking the switch, he listened for a moment before resetting and turned it off. Opening the vent cover, he carefully put it into the tunnel, as far as he could reach. After making a notation in his omni-tool, he picked up the datapad he had dropped. Falling behind his assigned tasks would not earn him any points with Drake.

Getting to his feet, he returned to work. After a few minutes, he closed the monitoring panel and exited the power junction, keeping a lookout for any signs of intruders. At the entrance, he climbed a ladder to the upper level catwalk and moved into another passageway, inspecting several more power couplings. As he followed the bend of the passage, he fell back hastily as a keeper bobbed in his direction. He had been expecting to run into keepers, there had seemed to be an unusual number of them appearing in Foundations but he never thought he would see one in the upper catwalks There was hardly any space for the both of them so he tried to squeeze himself as far back into the corner as possible. Like an automaton, the creature turned the corner neatly, its head trained ahead, its legs barely brushing past his own.

"Well, hello to you too," he muttered and froze when the keeper suddenly turned. For a wild moment, he thought it heard him and was responding but it reached out with a long arm to tap on a door panel and vanished into one of the side corridors. "Damn it, I'm pissing myself," he clapped a hand to his chest. "I really need a vacation," he exhaled gustily. A glance at the chronometer on his omni-tool tool; 2125. Wearily, he headed for the exit. Half an hour later, he wished he could soak the ache out of his bones as he stood beneath the steaming water in the showers but that was a luxury that would have to wait until he could get back to his apartment. If he didn't pass out on the bed first.

Minutes later, washed and dressed, he picked up his dinner at the canteen. Even at that hour, it was crowded but the atmosphere was subdued; everyone was pulling long shifts. Someone waved to him as he looked for a place to sit. They had reserved a seat for him, he saw, as he made his way over to Tessie.

"Hey West," she said softly when he reached them.

"You look like I feel," he sighed as he sat down beside Malon who was slurping down unidentifiable pea-green mush from his bowl. It smelt slightly acrid. Rubbing away the itch on his nose, he picked up his spoon. "Anything new?"

"Nope," she swallowed a mouthful of stew. "Nothing big...I think...you gonna eat that?" she dipped her spoon into her bowl for another helping as he examined the stew. "It's beef," she added helpfully.

"Again? How long have we been eating this stuff?"

"Face it, for the remaining six days, we're going to be stewed out. Until this station starts hauling ass back to where it belongs and they start stocking up again."

"Commercial vessels are still in orbit," said Challa, crumbling what looked like biscuit into his pink-purple mush.

"Yeah, but those stuff's going downstairs, not here. Got to keep the mob happy, you know," she tore off a chunk from a small loaf of bread on her tray and scooped up some of the remaining stew with it.

"So...what did you hear?" Westir tasted the stew and recognised it as one of the canteen cooks' personal recipe. A fine attempt to vary the cuisine but when one had been eating beef stews for the past week, it didn't make much difference.

"It's not confirmed but something might be arriving here in two days," said Malon, pushing away his empty bowl. "Something big, I think. The cleaners are widening the sphere of their sweeps. They're running out there every two hours."

"Shit, I think my job's easier," Westir said feelingly.

"Guess they don't want a single piece of debris swinging this way," Tessie reached for her glass of water and took a sip. "Makes you wonder if they're going to start cleaning up the rest of the orbiting debris after this station is gone."

"I don't think so," Westir made a face.

"Why not?"

He quelled the desire to say something disparaging about her intelligence; it was an issue they had gone over before. "Come on, those debris isn't just a problem for us, the TI can't tiptoe in without getting smacked in the face."

"They're all ground side and we haven't seen anything like an attack from space since the war ended," she countered.

"Doesn't mean that there won't be."

"Well, I think it's time they start cleaning up," she said stubbornly. "That way, traders don't have to go the long route, they don't have to wait hours for clearance to dock, security checks, offloading, onloading, trading, refueling and all that stuff. Think how much savings come filtering down to us," she shrugged when they looked silently at her. "Sure, it's cheaper on the station but it's a different story down there. You guys just don't know how much it costs just to buy essentials. It used to be twice, now it's quadruple since they locked down commercial traffic!"

"Such chain effect is typical but temporary...," began Malon sympathetically, aware of the human family's difficulties down on Earth.

"Speak for yourself," Tessie rolled her eyes. "Your homeworld is the only one clean as a whistle."

"The space around it yes but we face the same TI problem. Since we don't have any battle debris to serve as a buffer, we have to deploy more security satellites and increased patrols."

"That's waaay more expensive than your...essentials," Westir waggled his eyebrows at Tessie who scowled at him. "So until the TI are gone, I guess we're stuck with the orbiting debris. What's next?" he dug into the stew.

"We're one of the groups to stay on-station when they start shifting," Challa almost laughed at the shocked expressions on the humans' faces at that unexpected bombshell. Malon only blinked.

"Oh great, we get the grandstand view," dropping the spoon into the bowl, Westir sagged back in his chair, appetite lost. "We get drop into the poop if anything goes south," he mimed a huge explosion.

"According to you these past weeks, everything is going down the gutters," Tessie said waspishly as she pushed back her chair. "If it happens to you, I wouldn't shed a tear," she stalked off angrily, leaving a pool of silence behind.

"What did I say?" Westir muttered plaintively after a while.

"We're all tired," Challa finished the last of his drink. "We'll see better tomorrow," he made to get up but stopped when Westir put out a hand.

"Do you have any more of those 'corders? I don't think I can make any tonight."

"I'll drop what I have on your locker in the morning," Challa nodded tiredly to Westir and Malon before walking away.

"How many did you run into today?" Malon asked curiously.

"Just one, over at the IO237g junction," picking up his spoon again, Westir forced himself to eat. "They've probably moved...somewhere. There're only six more days, if we don't get those duct rats out...," he trailed off.

"You do realise these children are unlike the usual breed? They are rather resilient," Malon pointed out.

"They may have learnt how to survive in that environment but nothing's going to save them if they are caught in the wrong place at the wrong time when the station began to move. The brass aren't telling us how they plan to do it but I tell you, all kinds of odd stuff might happen," Westir stirred the remaining stew and pushed the bowl away, struggling to damp down his frustrations. "If any of those kids bothers to listen to those recordings, maybe a few can be saved."

"With all the wards already shut and locked down, the only places they can go to are not safe," Malon paused to consider. "Foundations would be the likely hideaway."

Westir thumped the table softly with a fist. "That's even worst. They're not going to listen to official broadcasts. I'd bet they're scared. They can't trust us so they're going to do the first thing that comes to mind; find the safest place to hide, scrounge and stock up on supplies."

Malon nodded. "It's a high probability they were already making their own preparations ever since the project was announced, " he said. "Who knows, they might come come through unscathed but if any of them died in due process, we'll never know."

"Damn it, I know!" The outburst drew a few curious gazes from neighbouring tables but most of the other R&M personnel simply carried on eating. Westir lowered his voice, "We can just hope for the best."

"Get some rest, West," Malon said softly. "I'll make more of the 'corders and put them at your locker."

The exhaustion he had been keeping at bay finally swamped Westir. He could only nod his gratitude, grasping Malon on his shoulder in silent thanks before leaving for his apartment. Tired as he was, he was not certain he would get the rest he needed; the plight of the duct rats would continue to gnaw at him. If he did sleep, hopefully, he would be too tired to have nightmares.

* * *

**SSV Glasgow**

His chest expanded and contracted rhythmically, blood surged in concert as his feet pounded on the rubber track. Music played softly in his ear as he rounded the curve, flashing by other off duty crew working out on several exercising machines. Farther away, a small crowd shouted and whistled at players in a outball match but he hardly heard them. After weeks clamped up by a slew of tasks that had to be seen to, it was a relief to be able to really stretch his legs, get his sluggish body to do some hard work and he was enjoying it too much to let anything distract him. Sweat dripped down his face and he mopped it up with the towel around his neck as he slowed down gradually to a walk to cool off.

So far so good, he was not breathing too hard. Pleased, he got off the track and headed for the entrance of the gym. A shower, some light snacks and back to work. Whomp! The sudden collision at the doors staggered him backwards.

"Sorry, captain!" the marine who had run into him leapt back, coming to attention even as her face turned red.

"At ease, lieutenant," said Dorrin. A pair of green eyes snapped to him before looking straight ahead.

"Sir," she said and waited till he had moved away before entering the gym.

Rubbing his chest ruefully; she must have been running full speed, he headed to his quarters. Stripping off his wet gym outfit, he tossed it into the washer before stepping into the shower. When he exited, a fresh uniform was already laid out on his bed and a tray with a plate of wafer thin sandwiches, a glass of water and a mug of juice sat on his desk. As usual, Martin was right on top of things. Turning on the desk console as he sat down, he reached for a sandwich. There were several messages, mostly from department heads. One was from Admiral Langdon, addressed to all captains of the First Fleet. Another, he saw to his delight, was from Shepard. If she was sending him emails, she must have made a full recovery. He would keep her message for last, business first.

Frowning as he scrolled through the missive from ANI, he hit the comlink that linked directly to the bridge. "Canning, report to my quarters." His lips tightened, as he went through the other messages, at another cantankerous report from Rantos. Three shuttles were out of service from persistent applications and the remaining two were closed to that same state. Another emphasis on lack of replacement parts and the delay of supplies. There was really nothing he could do except acknowledged the problem. Again. Rantos's complaint was legitimate but with high demand from other allied navies as well, both local and foreign manufacturers just could not keep up. Not with so many security and economic factors constraining the industry from expanding.

The sentry outside the door announced Canning and he looked up as the XO came in.

"Sir," Canning saluted and fell at ease at Dorrin's gesture.

"Word from ANI, they want our sweep pattern adjusted to include the CVHA. Daily rotational with _Essen_ and _Almada_. We take first shift, as of 0300. Have DTS update hourly."

"Yes, sir," Canning took the datachip Dorrin offered him. "Is there a reason why we're looking over the sheep?"

"A hundred and fifty very unhappy sheep as it is. Inspections aren't go fast enough and Customs are severely shorthanded, so we're going to help them out. We currently have two working shuttles which aren't enough so we're going to borrow two from customs. Have Major Stephos ready six Marine squads for inspection parties..," Dorrin trailed off, seeming to think. Canning waited patiently, knowing there was more. "Tell the major, to choose at his own discretion, people who had some experience with hiding contraband."

"Sir?" Canning blinked. Did the captain ask for bootleggers among the marines?

Dorrin almost laughed at his expression. "Marines aren't born marines, Ben. They don't all sprout from the same pristine ground. Some of them would have a better idea of the ways and operations of smugglers and know where to look. And it's not only unauthorised materials they'll be looking for," he almost grinned at the light of comprehension in the XO's eyes.

"But sir, would any of the traders be in cahoots with the fugitives from RF14? It's reckless and foolish," Canning pointed out.

"Perhaps all they need to do is to sit in orbit, which is why we need to start helping to clear the backlog for customs. With Ardones due in two days," Dorrin put up a hand as Canning made to speak. "I know, 48 hours is just too short to clear that many ships. The job is divvy up, the other cruisers are sending their own parties. It will be slow going but it is paramount we clear part of the skies and get those ships to offload much needed cargo downstairs."

Canning nodded. "I heard groundside temperature is going up the roof."

"Because those cargo are stuck in orbit," Dorrin sighed, "pushing up prices. Inform the major to expedite if he could. Carry on, XO."

"Sir," Canning turned to go and then hesitated. "Sir, do you have any idea what Ardones is?"

"Well," Dorrin leaned back in his chair. "I asked Admiral Langdon about that and he said to look up Heracles in Greek mythology because they have the same meaning. You do know who was Heracles?" he waited until Canning nodded.

"Yes, sir, I read something of him as a kid."

"I suppose Heracles is something that's going to...help shift the Citadel."

"Not someone...sir?" Canning flashed a grin.

"Then I would kick that someone's ass really hard and asked why didn't he do something about the reapers. We could use a hand if he was that mighty," snorted Dorrin.

"But if it is something...huge that could move the Citadel...who might have built it?"

Dorrin shrugged. "We'll find out in two days. Until then, we can let our fantasies run riot," he waited until Canning had left before turning back to his console and brought up Shepard's email and settled down to read.

* * *

**Thessia**

"What _cannot_ be, Shepard?"

To Shepard's relief, Shiala stopped two paces from her. "Quit fooling around with me," she said angrily, shaking her head to dispel the voice that was not Liara's and disturbingly like Shiala's.

"But I am not here to make myself an imbecile with you," said Shiala seriously but Shepard thought that was a mischievous glint in her eye. Was she deliberately putting her off balance? But why would she do such a thing?

"I am here...to tell you...," Shiala paused.

"What?"

A sigh escaped Shiala, drawing Shepard's unwilling attention to her lips that looked very inviting. She dragged her gaze away to fix it on a blossoming plant. "We're linked."

"What?!" The revelation was totally unwelcome to her ears and her eyes twitched back to Shiala. "What did you do?" Shepard demanded before another thought leapt up and she clapped a hand to her mouth in horror. "We're not...we're not...," she could not utter the word. Was that why Liara seemed so upset? Was that why she was feeling so...so...she pushed the thought away.

Shiala understood what she was referring to. "I'm sorry Shepard, this is somewhat difficult for me."

"You? What about me?" running a hand through her hand as she tried to sort conflicting emotions, Shepard turned away.

"I can only say...there were numerous reasons why I did what I did," said Shiala behind her. "I..."

"Just tell me when it happened," Shepard returned brusquely, trying not to yell at the asari.

"A part of me was intrigued with your personality I touched in the mind meld and I had hoped the future would hold possibilties were you successful," said Shiala behind her.

"Isn't that an incursion on my free will?" Shepard demanded "Is this what every asari does? They deliberately try to impose their own desire on someone whether they wish it or not?!"

"You are angry, I understand. I can only plea that you would be able to see from my point of view. My balance was not what it should have been when I gave you the Cipher. Though I stepped into the Thorian's clutches without protest, a part of me loathed it with every fibre of my being while I was in there. For everything I was, it touched," Shiala's voice dripped heavily with disgust. "And yet I was fascinated by its immense knowledge. When you killed it, I was filled with joy and gratitude and yet sadness over the lost. If any other matrons or matriarchs were present, they would not have allowed the meld for they would have sensed the the disconsonants within me. And so, I made an impulsive decision."

_Then you should have desisted._ Shepard wanted to yell. _Damn it, aren't you listening? She offered, you accepted. Without so much as asking the A-Z of what it was. She was so mucked up she couldn't think straight except what I was prodding her to do._ "If we are linked, " she said instead. "Why is it I felt nothing from you?"

"The link then was but a light touch in the beginning. After several months at Zhu's Hope, I began to recover from the after effects and I knew I had to remove it but then came the news that the Normandy was destroyed and that you were missing in action." Shepard turned at the grief she heard and saw it reflected on Shiala's face. "I mourned even as I aided the colonists in rebuilding. Everything was improving until we began to experience lingering adverse effects from the Thorian spores and sought medical help."

"The medical contract you tried to negotiate with the Baria Frontiers representative on Illium," Shepard remembered. "You were...," she stopped as she recalled the odd pulling she walked through the concourse. Strange and fluctuating.

"Yes," Shiala nodded. "You felt it then. I felt your presence and responded. I was happy when I realised you were there."

"You...were sick then."

"Yes...but it was inexcusable what I did after since my biotics were so unstable," Shiala looked away uncomfortably. "You were successful in persuading Baria Frontiers to change the contract, I was grateful...and though I sensed you had a link, you were not confident with it. Of what would become of yourself and Liara. I selfishly wanted to strengthen my tie to you. I wanted you to come to me because I yearned for that shelter you could offer and so..."

"You touched me...I thought..," Shepard trailed off.

"I was flirting. Yes, I was, I was inviting you," Shiala sighed. "I had hoped you would make further contact but you didn't. A year later, the reaper war began and you know the rest. With what was left of those from Zhu's Hope, we were evacuated from Feros and fought alongside allied forces."

"You said you went to Asteria with the survivors."

"During the war, we used the link forged by the spores to maximise our fighting capabilities. Mostly drawing from what I had learnt. It was highly effective and ensured a better survival rate than we would have were we not linked," explained Shiala. "It was a connection not easily disregarded. We chose to stay together. However, a few months after we settled on Asteria, we discovered that the link had weakened considerably before eventually disappearing."

That was certainly a surprising development. Even when she received the email regarding this, Shepard had not quite believe it was possible. "Then the effects of the spores are not permanent," she said.

"Of that, we are not sure. Perhaps drawing on the link weakened it somehow. During this period, I made full recovery."

"But...why didn't you return to Thessia? Surely the needs of your homeworld takes precedence."

"With recovery, comes balance. With it comes memory of what I had done. I am ashamed by my actions. Your bonding with Liara is public knowledge. Were I to return, I will be disturbing the peace between you and Liara. I have no wish to do that. As long as I stay away, you cannot sense the link."

"So you stayed on Asteria and you only came back..."

"Because Telienos and Liara asked me to. And because you need help, as a...friend, can I stand idly by?"

Suspicion hit Shepard belatedly. "Does Liara know about this?"

"She does. She never told you about the second link, did she?" Shiala smiled when Shepard shook her head dumbly. "She knew what it meant when she first encountered it. Too, you had no inkling of it, that's why she has never questioned or brought it up. It's weaker than the bond between the two of you. It presents no danger to her."

"Wait a minute," Shepard protested, knowing a glib dismissal when she heard it. No danger to Liara? Meaning what?

"Truth. Your bond is forged through the trials you faced together. Ours," Shiala flicked her hand coolly, "is but a pale shadow. One sided as it is."

"How can it be one sided when I feel...," Shepard paused, "like I want to throw you into the flower beds and..."

"Because I am leaking my feelings over to you," Shiala snapped her fingers. As if by magic, the subtle heat Shepard had been feeling disappeared. "What I did was wrong. By our creed, I have committed a crime. You can seek redress."

"What?" Thrown off balance, Shepard struggled to catch up. "No wait wait...I read something about that."

"I abide by whatever you decide and will not appeal..."

"Alright, _knock it off_," snapped Shepard. "Why the hell would I want to do that?"

"The answer is..," began Shiala.

"Quiet," Shepard glared at her and sighed when Shiala closed her mouth. "It's not helping your throwing more apples into an overloaded cart. Liara's not helping either. So, until I get everything sorted out, stop trying to land yourself in hot water, turning yourself into...whatever. It's so...so messy, all these conflicting issues coming all at once," her voice rose slightly in her irritation.

"I'm sorry Shepard, I did not mean to increase the complications," said Shiala apologetically.

"Shucks...stop apologising too," groaned Shepard tiredly. "Look, if you want to help, be the friend you said you are," she rubbed her face wearily. "I'm...just going to bed now, I'll see you tomorrow and we'll have another talk when my mind's clearer."

"Good night, Shepard," said Shiala to her retreating back. A wave of a hand was the only answer.

* * *

**Unknown location**

It was a nice residence. Beautifully furnished with all kinds of amenities and well stocked with staples. There was a small hothouse, gardens and fountains. There was really nothing more she could ask for except for a better address. Looking out across the rolling farmlands that stretched as far as she could see from the walls, Jieull wished she was anywhere but where she was currently. Down below, a gardener ambled by, examining the flower beds. Dressed in drab smirched coveralls over brown clothing, she looked like every other labourer but Jieull knew for a fact she was an elite commando. However, no commando could hold her if she chose to leave.

The problem was, she couldn't leave. At least, not yet. With her identity tagged as a conspirator in a murder and a bounty attached to her arrest, there was no where she could go at the moment. Not even Illium or the outer colonies. There were remote places she could hide in but it would take months of work to throw off the cover she was using. If she had the credits, it could be done easily but whatever she had, wouldn't meet the price tag unless she signed a contract and she knew better than to hobble herself that way.

_Another week of this pastoral existence, no possibilities of any assignation, I'll go crazy._ She thought petulantly.

If only she could get her hands on that wimpy Seskia and find out who it was that had jumped on her and then dumped her outside C-Sec. That whoever it was had removed her from the hands of human scum instead of leaving her to their mercy, she could appreciate but she had very little of that when she woke up to find herself under the scrutiny of station security officers. It brought her to their attention which she had avoided for so long. She would have gotten away with the usual excuse of working too long and had simply fallen asleep outside C-Sec headquarters but she could not explain the bruise on the back of her nape one sharp eye officer had spotted.

It had not been too difficult to act the persecuted worker; too frightened to file a complaint. The moment she returned to her apartment, she had bought the first available ticket back to Thessia. To stay at the Citadel was to expose herself further. She had fully expected to be disciplined for her failure to secure incriminating files on the councilor but to be sent off to this remote farming colony had been a shock. She had been so certain nothing would connect her to the Alliance officer's death. And yet, somehow, evidence of her involvement had been handed in. Whoever it was might probably be the one that knocked her out. Retribution was the natural course but she could do none of that at the moment.

But there was one thing she could do and she did. A smile lit her lips as she thought of the email she sent. The moment word filtered down of the trouble that stupid pompous salarian had stirred for himself on Ilos, she knew it was the golden opportunity. It had been but child's play to implant the suggestion in him. Really, they were all so opened, so easy to get into. Like little children. He must be dead by now. Too bad she couldn't see it herself, it would so satisfactory, but she was certain he made a mess. A laugh escaped her as she imagined the scene. The buzz from the desk console interrupted her. Annoyed, she marched over to it.

_Can't I even enjoy myself?!_

Her pique vanished when she saw who was calling; Trisio T'Enaire. Enabling the console, she said respectfully, "Your Eminence."

Cool azure coloured eyes regarded her for a moment. "I've an assignment for you. A party of asari medical personnel and commandos will be rendezvousing with an Alliance shuttle which will be transferring an asari in their keeping over to them. I am sending a squad of commandos with you. You will replace the group with our own, meet the humans and take charge of that asari."

"Why is she important?" she dared to ask.

"She is no _ordinary_ asari. In fact, she is highly dangerous. Do not even think you can take her one on one. Or even as a group. She can and will kill you and any one with you within a few minutes if you provoked her. We want her full cooperation so no drugs, no threats. No tricks. Do you _understand_?" the cold eyes bore into her.

"Yes, your Eminence," she affected humility that hardly fooled Trisio.

"If you succeed, we will reconstitute your identity and you may again prove your value."

Naturally, there was no need to mention what would happen if she failed. "I look forward to demonstrate my abilities."

"The commandos will give you more details. Your transport will arrive within the day." The transmission ended abruptly.

Jieull contemplated the dark screen. It sounded like a suicide mission. It was a suicide mission, she was certain. If this unknown asari was capable of killing many that fast, then...she frowned as a thought struck. But no, Trisio would not have given her that caution without solid evidence. So, this asari was important. Was it her biotics? Or something else? No matter, she would find out herself. Humming softly, she went off to pack. Finally, she was getting off planet!


	62. Chapter 62

**Words of note**

**AMC - Asari Medical Council**

**ASC - airspace control**

**BH - biohazard**

**HC - high command**

**KML - Kelice Medical Laboratory**

* * *

**Unknown Location**

The jolting woke him. Confused, Raz looked around him for a moment. Though it was dark, he was able to see well enough to make out the square confines of his cell and he remembered where he was. Or rather where he shouldn't be. There was an ache in his head. They had drugged him again. How long was he unconscious? How long? In a brief moment of panic, he felt himself all over, searching for any signs of modifications. He sniffed. The air was foul-smelling too and he knew where it came from. It wasn't from the auto-clean commode in the far corner. The source of the effluvium was himself. That in itself was somewhat assuring for he detected no trace of chemicals.

However, it was also a reminder that he hadn't cleaned himself for...how many weeks now? It was difficult to keep track without his omni-tool and no other time keeping devices. Nor was he able to see out of his cell. Another jolt shook the small structure, not hard enough to fling him off the bunk he was lying on but enough for him to realise there was too much movement and too much noise. Prudently, he elected to stay where he was.

It was doubtful he was still on Illium. Or if he was, his cell was probably tucked away in one of the hundreds of warehouses. Judging from the the whine of servos, the clanging of heavy metal with no hint of an echo and the thrum of engines he could feel subtly vibrating the frame of the bunk, he was willing to bet on the former. So where were his captors moving him to? Perhaps they had decided on the use of one of their exclusive torture facilities to make him talk. Not a pleasant future to contemplate when he had suffered months of torture under the hands of his former employer years ago, a very dead former employer, he was not sure he was up to another long session in the hands of another. Or if he would even survive it.

That he was around to be snared again was due to the happy fact he was rescued before his employer decided he had had enough of fun. This time however, he was certain no one would have any idea where to look for him. Except perhaps for her but then it had been weeks since he last made contact. Would she even know he was in trouble? His schedule had been erratic of late and she knew he would send her something when he could. If she knew he was in trouble, Illium would be the place she would start looking, pulled in his contacts but by then, he might be dead.

The few agents he had on Illium were not reliable either and might lead her into a trap. One of them, he was certain, had betrayed him. That was one of the side effects of the Reaper War. Archives and lives were disrupted, scattered and destroyed. Piecing back the tattered shreds of a web that had spanned more than seventy decades would not be an easy task but it was an endeavor he heartily supported, given what she had done during the war.

The current climate being what it was, it had been slow work. Easy enough to hire muscle for the simplest tasks, credits loosened tongues to wag sufficiently but not for the core that would form the structure of the web. Recruitment had been cautious for he trusted no one to conduct investigative checks into potential recruits. Combined that with the near impossible task of ferreting out information on the TI and Cerberus agents, progress had been frustratingly almost non-existent. His former employer would have him put down for incompetence for having so little to show after two years of digging. His current boss was more likely to point out his failings.

The cell trembled slightly, drawing his attention back to his present predicament and he waited. Ever since he was drugged and woke up to find himself incarcerated in the cell, he had not caught a single glimpse of his captors. The initial interrogation had been brief and conducted through an intercom mounted on the wall opposite the bunk. The voice of the interrogator was clearly synthesized, he could not tell if it was male or female but something told him it was the former. All it asked was his name and origins. Nothing else. He had given his alias and unexpectedly, he was left alone. Not a good sign. Either they knew who he was or they were simply waiting for something else. There was only one adversary who knew exactly who he was. He could only hope he was wrong. If he was right, then, sooner or later, they would go after her. And there was no warning he could give her.

_What's wrong with me? I already know that!_ _Think, think of a plan. _He thumped his head, struggling to clear his thoughts. A faint crackle from the intercom. He tensed.

"You are awake," the familiar disembodied voice stated flatly.

Advantage to his captors; they could observe him at will. He sat up. "Where have you taken me?"

"Some where, for a time, where you have to stay."

_For a time?_ "How long?" he demanded. "If you're thinking of making me..."

"Talk?" the voice interrupted. "Unnecessary. We know exactly who you are."

"So who am I?" he challenged.

"You used to be a information trafficker before assuming a more important role in the Terminus Systems...for the Shadow Broker."

"The Shadow Broker is dead," he said evenly, despite the quickening of his blood. Cerberus, he was caught by Cerberus. How long would they wait before they start tinkering with him?

"For a while. We know how the network was used during the Reaper War. Unusual but prudent in its direction." Was that approval he heard? The voice continued. "The cost was high. You are currently one of the few surviving operatives from that network, looking to rebuild even as you work concurrently with the Systems Alliance. Under the name of Raz."

They knew too much. But that really should have been expected. Mentally, he reached for the mantra his father had taught to calm himself, keeping his entire body relaxed by force of will.

"We know what you are looking for."

He held his tongue. So far, they had pounded out fact after fact but he hadn't deny or affirm the truth of the statements. They could be guessing. Admittedly, their guesses were dreadfully dead on target. "So what am I looking for?" he said finally when the intercom remained silent.

"An unbeliever, I see. The galaxy is plagued by a rot left behind by the reapers and the Alliance have reason to regret not to weed the garden more thoroughly. Shall I elucidate?"

"If you know so much, there's no value in keeping me then, is it?" he said grimly. They should know using him as a hostage would have little effect. Unlike the influence her late mother could wield, she still had some ways to go before she could even have that same amount of leverage. It may take her a hundred years and more. By then, she would be formidable but he wouldn't live long to see it even if they didn't kill him now.

A bark of laughter from the intercom. "For a drell, even you must understand that the dust underfoot has its intrinsic value."

"What do you want?"

"While you were unconscious, we have stocked supplies for you. Enough to last several days. You will be released once the pre-determined schedule has been reached. Whatever you decide to do then, is up to you."

"Why?"

"Decide wisely, Feron. Whatever come to pass...depends on you."

Silence. He waited before realising whoever it was had imparted whatever he wanted to say had probably left. "Wait!" he shouted, slipping off the bunk and winced when the lights in the cell blinked on in response. Outside, he could hear the sound of engines. Not heavy enough for a freighter. Shuttle? Pounding on the door of his cell, he shouted, "Why are you doing this?! Who are you?"

There was a muffled heavy reverberating down blasting of engines. The shuttle was taking off, leaving him behind. But where had they left him? It was futile to try the ventilation grills, he had already tried without success to find a weakness. There was nothing on him or in the cell he could use to force a way out. They had made sure of that. The noise from the engines grew faint and then vanished. There was no other sound outside. It was if he had been left on a dead world.

Turning around, he saw the crates at the foot of the bunk for the first time and opened them. One contained energy bars. The other, bottles of water. He counted the energy bars. Thus far, they had given him meals three times a day. If they were expecting him to keep to the same routine, then they had supplied him victuals to last ten days. But could he be so complacent just because they had made sure he was fed regularly? For all he knew, it could be more than ten days before he was released. If they really meant to free him.

Rationing and meditation, he decided. That would ensure supplies would be ample after ten days. If it turned out they had lied...he would deal with that situation when it come. There were ways in which he could slip off into the abyss painlessly. Until then... He laid himself on the bunk and prepared for the first cycle of contemplation. As he closed his eyes, the lights went out.

* * *

**Thessia**

Despite the glow of the ceiling lights, the emanation from the monitor was even brighter. Or so it seemed. Blinking rapidly as the font turned blurry, Nyrine closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. Nothing could be heard in the office but she sensed the presence of the guard sentry on the upper catwalk a short distance away. The familiar faint aura radiated unusual tranquility. Which seemed rather surreal, given the tenebrous shadow that had dominated and nearly tore apart the mores of the Asari. But it was no wispy dream that would disappear when she opened her eyes. The numbers would still be there.

In response to the public challenge issued from the Assembly months ago, maidens from surviving colonies and the outer reaches had responded and returned to Thessia. The numbers were not what they would have been had there been no Reaper War but it was enough for civilian and military academies to extend their existing lodging capacity and for foundations of new towers to be laid to accommodate the influx. And it was not just the maidens, matrons who had chosen to settle offworld were returning, imparting their experience and skills in several civilian sectors. The effect of these new additions was realised in the form of a stronger purposive and determined collective that could be felt.

The chronometer chimed softly. Straightening in her chair, she looked at the monitor and hesitated. From the dullness at the back of her mind, she knew she would not have the focus. That and the tiny aching twinges she was feeling. Time to move around. Something she looked forward to ever since she discarded the cold veneer once her clandestine mission was over. Closing down and securing the console, she made a quick foray into the bathroom before stepping outside to a well lit empty corridor. As she made her way to the lift, a patrolling guard appeared from one of the side passages. Other than a mutual nod of acknowledgement, the guard did not stop and continued on her way. Her beat, as Nyrine knew, intersected the paths of another two guards and was purely random, making it more difficult for any intruder to predict the exact positions of any of the patrols at any given time.

She took the lift down to a quiet CIC. At this time of the night, near dawn really, only a skeleton crew was standing watch. The watch duty officer remained at her station at a gesture from Nyrine who sat down at an unmanned terminal. Pulling up the most recent logs, she read them quickly before moving to the training schedules of the day. Overhead, a series of moderately loud chiming sounded, signalling the changing of the watch. Almost right on the last note, the morning watch arrived. Shaking her head to a question by the operator of the terminal she was using, she cleared away the data before handing it over.

Satisfied, she made her way over to the canteen. Empty, except for a few commandos grabbing an early breakfast. She made a pass at the serving counter where the cooks were already putting the final touches on the hot pans for the crowd of recruits that would appear soon. The aroma of hot food tickled her appetite. Over a bowl of broth, she chatted with the cooks, taking note of any criticisms. The conversation died away as recruits and their minders began to appear. All signs of sleepiness and twitchiness vanished the moment the first pair of alert eyes spotted her presence and passed the word. Under her gaze, the queue moved quickly, greetings were murmured respectfully as they moved past her and conversations muted.

Finishing the last of the broth, she disposed of the empty bowl and spoon and headed out, aware of which way the conversations would turn since they saw the direction she was taking. Memories of her own rookie years floated to the fore. How long ago that was! She surprised several recruits under punishment detail for disciplinary lapses at the barracks and their dismay was comical to see despite their efforts in mantaining an impassive mien; she had to wonder if she had been that transparent herself. Her inspection was desultory. There was no cause to interfere in minor infractions. Any serious breaches would have been brought to her attention by division commanders. Thankfully, there was none since the academies were set up.

A brief word with the sergeant in charge of the miscreants and she continued on to the next point of interest on her chosen route; the officers' locker rooms next to the shuttle bays. It was empty but she could hear voices and water from the showers as she put on her armor. It felt good to be wearing it. She reached for her pistol and was about to clip it to her belt when she realised the weight was off. She brought it up. It was the wrong pistol. The lower trigger guard was sheared away and the dark stained barrel was badly scrapped and chipped. As she stared at it, a ghostly broken voice whispered, almost lost in the cacophony of battle.

_I'm sorry._

A shot echoed. She shook her head. Carefully, she tucked it away under her spare clothing and clipped on the right pistol. There was still no one about when she slipped out to the shuttle bays. A constant hive of activity and noise at every hour, mechanics and technicians labored over the gunships and shuttles. Slipping in and out among the parked vehicles, she made her way to the shuttle at the outer most landing pad where cargo handlers were loading crates into the cargo compartment. A nod to the watchful commandos as she moved to the cockpit.

"Captain," the pilot said as she hooked her helmet to the bulkhead and dropped into the co-pilot seat. "This is the last load. Once they're done, we're good to go."

"Pre-flight?" she called up the latest satellite scan.

"Twice."

"Looks like we're getting a light dusting for the next few hours," she said as she studied the weather report.

"Yes, sir. No sightings along the perimeter. Shall I confirm our flight plan with ASC?"

Nyrine nodded, then ran another systems check. It didn't hurt to be careful. One of the commandos came in to report cargo was secured before returning to the cargo compartment to buckle down for the flight. With tight seal confirmed on all hatches, the pilot brought the engines to half power. Once they cleared the shielded outer walls of the landing bays, she steered the shuttle on the approved route, in the higher altitudes. Changing one of the screens to the view outside, Nyrine sat back in her chair.

The city was awashed with lights in the darkness. A glowing flower with faint radiating nimbus from the surrounding regions outside the defense walls. Nyrine could stare at it forever. It was the one sight she closed and opened her eyes to from the windows of her apartment. An apartment she had specifically looked for with such a view, for this purpose. To assure herself that the war was over. That everything that had been lost and sacrificed, had not been in vain. Her people would endure and prosper.

Tiny white flakes fell against the windscreens of the cockpit and melted beneath the thermal current, leaving tiny trails of water that dried swiftly in the freezing wind. Blazing strobes of light atop the towers floated by beneath as the shuttle headed swiftly westwards. As it neared the defense walls, the pilot answered promptly to challenges from patrolling gunships and watch towers. Then it was over the perimeter and out in the wilds. Nyrine monitored all scan readings carefully. Though TI attacks on Kelice had dwindled down to almost nothing in the past months, a passing shuttle might be too tempting a target. The last thing they needed was a barrage coming at them.

The shuttle glided on serenely over huge swathes of snow covered terrain with the brown bare core of trees bristling like spines and the indistinct ruins of several villages. Presently, sparkles of lights appeared in the grey mists of dawn. More challenges were directed at them which the pilot dealt with quickly. The grey hulk of a geth dropship appeared and the shuttle dipped beneath it to spiral down to the huge encampment nestled among the broken remains of buildings. The frames of shattered skyscrapers rose up in the distance as the shuttle landed in one of the landing pads north-east of the camp. As soon as the engines tuned down, a squad of recruits jogged up, popped the hatch and immediately began to off load the cargo with help from the commandos.

With temperatures below zero outside, Nyrine latched on her helmet before exiting the shuttle. Her eyes fell on an armored figure waiting for her, clear of the activity. "Tell me you left a message for Sanar this time," said the asari with mock severity over the comlink.

"I...don't think so, Vatia," Nyrine deliberately injected uncertainty.

"This is the third time, Nyrine," Vatia sighed with grave exaggeration. "Even Athame would find it very hard to overlook this negligence."

"I don't know, I think she might be a little preoccupied to notice I'm missing," Nyrine shrugged before reaching out to grasp her friend's arm in greeting.

"Found someone has she?" Vatia waved towards the nearest prefab building. "Morning meal is ready."

Nyrine shook her head. "I had something earlier," she started for the distant barricades. Vatia fell into step. "How're they doing?" she said, brushing away flakes of snow that clung to her helmet visor.

"Understandably anxious and jittery...I still stand by what I said. It's too soon to send them out on patrols."

"And you know Izharia Vantios and I agree with you," Nyrine nodded as a passing recruit squad snapped a salute in their direction. "But unless we can come up with another alternative to give the veterans the desired ameliorative cycle they need so badly, we're stuck with the situation," she paused but Vatia said nothing. "The recruits had borne up rather well in the defense of the spaceport," she continued, "we have to try to move them to the next stage."

"Standing behind a defense wall is not the same as venturing into enemy territory," Vatia said bitingly, her boots making hard stomps in the snow.

"That's overstating isn't it, when every single probe we sent out returned negative scans. Even the geth couldn't find anything a hundred klicks out," she pointed out. "All they're doing is recon in pacified zones and protect the work crews."

"The geth can do that. I don't see why we have to risk the recruits."

"I'd rather not. We're over dependent on the geth," Nyrine glanced up as the wall of the barricade loomed over them. In the soft misty light of dawn, the geth dropship seemed to glint.

"They've been so helpful, there is no reason not to use them at this point," Vatia stopped in front of a pair of lift doors, palmed them open, her hand flicking out to hit a button on the control panel as she walked in. "They're machines, more expendable than recruits," she crossed her arms as she leaned against the wall.

Nyrine wished she could rub the itch on her nose. "There is every reason not to ask their aid if we are to build a capable defense force," she said. "And before we forget, they're not just machines. They're sentient, not expendable." Vatia seemed to stiffen at that rebuke but it could not be helped.

"For all our much vaunted ascendancy, we did not fare very well against the Reapers did we?" Nyrine said softly. "Nor did we do any better against the Rachni or the Krogan. We had to rely on the strengths of our allies. We can forge and consolidate concord among opposing coalitions but our inability to provide a convincing imprint in three galactic conflicts have cost us. The last, was the worst."

The lift came to a stop and she stepped out to a spreading misty vista of the ruined city of Amali. Leaning on the ledge of the rampart, Nyrine nodded towards the grey steel rubble. "There lies the legacy of our failure."

"The Reapers were impeccable, how would it have been any different?" Vatia said irritably.

"We would have been better prepared, more would have been saved," Nyrine said bleakly, recalling the chaos in the days preceding the invasion. "Every single major conflict in the past threw out warnings that the dictum of centrism would fail at some point but we chose to ignore it. Instead, we chose to rely on the sanctity of our long lifespans, confident that our beliefs, our past achievements would overcome any hurdle. We failed to take the opportunity to evolve when we could have. We are our own betrayers, Vatia."

"Throwing recruits into patrols is not progress," Vatia said, the stubborn glint in her eyes barely visible through the visor.

"And shielding them is?" Nyrine cut her off sharply with a gesture. "If we had followed the usual doctrine, the recruits wouldn't even be sent to the spaceport. In fact, they would still be sitting in the classrooms, studying manuals. The old ways cannot sustain us any longer. This is our time of fire, Vatia. If we balked now on this simple task, it defeats the entire determination for a new beginning. We must have a more versatile and stronger military force to face what may come in the years ahead. And the only way to achieve that end, to address our dire need, is to face the challenge of adversity without reservation."

"You've been learning from the humans," observed Vatia, disinclining to name who it was she thought was exerting such an influence. "Perhaps we should be picking up impatient bullying tactics from them as well," she said dryly.

"Would that be a bad thing?" Closing her eyes, Nyrine sighed. "We have more factions now than before. Geth, Krogan, Rachni. Once foes, now allies. Who is to say we would not face them again? Who is to say that the humans or even the turians, would not be our enemies in the future?" she felt Vatia start.

"Would it really have come to that?" Vatia said sombrely.

"Anything is possible, old friend."

Silence fell between them. The sound of machinery and vehicles starting up in the encampment drifted in the cold wind. They moved along the rampart, passing a Gardian turret emplacement before they had a clear view. Far below, construction crews ran final checks on carriers and equipment. Squads of recruits gathered with several other regular troops before their assigned gunships, very much aware of the importance of their mission; patrol and protect the work crews as they work to extend the area of reclamation. Nyrine watched as commandos went up and down the lines, no doubt reminding them of their objectives.

Everything seemed to freeze when the alarm went off. Below, everyone scattered. On the rampart, both officers ducked down, hearing the inaudible whine of the Gardian turret as it turned to track something at the horizon. Along the barricade, every turret was focused in that direction as troops and recruits began to appear, taking up positions. Switching over to command channel, Nyrine said, "This is Captain Rylaer, report."

"Incoming lone UIV. No answer to hails. No beacon."

That could only mean it was a TI vehicle. Vatia tapped Nyrine's shoulder, pointing towards the horizon. At that distance, even the visor enhancement could barely make out the target. The outline was indistinct but it looked like a gunship. As Nyrine watched, it dipped down before the pilot made corrections. Or tried to. It was not maintaining altitude at all, she realised. With the way it stuttered in the air, it was going to crash well before it reached the outer wall of the barricade.

"Hold fire," she said, looking at Vatia who nodded.

"Request confirmation on that order."

"This is Commander T'Vay," said Vatia. "Affirm. Have drones on standby at gate gamma-two."

The gunship fell steadily, the angle of its descent growing steeper and steeper, almost nose-diving. Such an impact, Nyrine knew, would completely obliterate the gunship. It pulled up suddenly, narrowly missing the jagged spires of a tower, struck the broken roof of a large complex along the way and spun out of control. The wings and tail snapped off in the mad whirlwind across the icy terrain before tumbling to a stop, leaving a trail of broken debris.

"No one could have survived that," Vatia murmured as a large shadow thrummed overhead. They watched as the geth dropship hovered over the gunship. Several bundles dropped down to the ground, to unfold into geth troopers. "I don't believe it," she said in amazement as the cockpit hatch opened. A figure stumbled out before falling. The geth approached cautiously. Their comlinks blipped.

"Captain Rylaer, the geth report one survivor. No perceivable threat. Orders?"

"Set up a containment tent outside gate gamma-two. Medical team on BH5 status, forward to AMC."

"Yes sir. Link to HC?"

"Stand by. Inform all patrols and crews to stand down until further notice. Maintain alert one."

Even as she issued the orders, one of the geth troopers bent down, picked up the fallen figure and began to run to the gate. Despite the distance, it reached it long before the medical team arrived. Looking over the edge of the rampart, Nyrine watched as the tent was set up and the pilot vanished into it.

"Can't be a prelude to assault," Vatia scrutinized the horizon. "Satellite scans are clean. A stray?"

Nyrine said nothing for a moment, the image of the limped body in broken armor in her mind. "Just how far do you think they have degenerated?"

"The first in the wave of projected suicides?" Vatia seemed to brighten. "Confirmation would bring inspiration to many."

The thought of it ought to make her happy but Nyrine was anything but that. She paced slowly along the rampart, inspecting the soldiers. Except for the single hash mark on their insignias, the more exuberant touch of their auras, the recruits were indistinguishable from the regular troopers.

"Captain Rylaer, this is Dr Thorton. I'm transferring the patient to KML," the baritone voice was a surprise.

Gesturing to Vatia, Nyrine made for the lift. "She's still alive?"

"She's dying but we need the lab facilities if we want to maintain her bio functions. State of cybernetic transition is at 93 percent, remaining bio systems are barely detectable," his voice turned faint and she could hear him issuing orders. "No, get me the tricyplex and ..."

A shuttle was lifting from the landing pad when they exited the lift and then through the security gate. The observation window of the tent was facing them and they could see medical personnel huddled over someone on the examination table. Wires and tubing seemed spread everywhere. All they could see of the TI pilot was a pair of booted feet. Then someone brought in a layered protective suit and the tallest figure made gestures for a few nurses to move back. Doctor Thorton, Nyrine presumed, and shock held her immobile when she finally saw the pilot.

The armor on her body had been cut away, exposing the changes. There was hardly any flesh. From the skeleton-like torso down to the legs, everything was withered black with tracings of cybernetics. Gorge rose to Nyrine's throat; the pilot's features were still recognisably asari despite the blackness. The crest was broken, as if parts of it had been decomposing for some time. But the eyes which should have been the cold glow of husks, were impossibly still organic. Alive. Aware. As the medics made connections and began to suit her up, a shaking dark claw-like hand rose, almost imploringly, to touch one of the nurses on the arm.

"Goddess," Vatia turned away, sounding sick.

"Azure...," Nyrine stepped away from the window, swallowing hard. "Her eyes..."

The shuttle landed, blowing up a tiny snowstorm. Within minutes, the medical team and their cocooned patient were onboard.

"Orders?" Vatia said quietly.

Staring after the rapidly disappearing dark speck in the sky, Nyrine shook her head. "Put everything on hold until further notice. At least, until we find out why she appeared as she did."

"Would we?"

"I don't know. But...did you see it?"

Vatia nodded slowly. "I hope she dies along the way."

"...she's so young," Nyrine's shoulders slumped. "How many more like her are out there?"


End file.
